


When it Counts

by saltwatergirl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe – Corporate Setting, Dating, M/M, Office Rivalry, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltwatergirl/pseuds/saltwatergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam’s goal of making partner is disrupted when a former classmate joins his accounting firm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue Monday

**Author's Note:**

> This story was the first I ever wrote for Zayn and Liam and it has gone through a few major changes over time. [Equallydestructive](http://archiveofourown.org/users/equallydestructive) has kindly beta-read the story and any remaining errors are my own.

Liam despised Mondays.

Ever since high school – no, even before that - Mondays had always been the longest, never ending, disaster-laden day of the week. Teachers always set tests on Mondays, his dog, Ranger, got run over by a car and died on a Monday, and his aunt found out she had cancer on a Monday.

He was seated in his office, nursing a hangover while watching the early morning sunlight stream through the window blinds, bounce right off the white walls, and hit him square in his red-rimmed, sore eyeballs. He swiveled his chair and adjusted the blinds, not allowing any light in, cursing under his breath when the motion sent a new jet of pain to his head. The air conditioner was set at low; he had adjusted it when he came in ten minutes ago hoping the cool air would ease the pounding in his skull. The scent in his office was familiar; Pledge furniture spray some anonymous office cleaner had spritzed on his desk during the weekend. Normally it was a pleasant smell - orange oil - but this morning the scent made him feel queasy.

He closed his eyes and entertained the thought of searching _how to kill a hangover_ , even reaching for his keyboard before he decided against it. He didn't want his boss or whoever was in charge of monitoring the office’s internet usage to think he was some type of boozer. He would have to grin and bear it and try to ignore the thrum in his skull and the tightness in his mouth all while vehemently swearing to himself he would never, ever drink again.

Liam took a painkiller, washing it down with water. Swiping his tongue around in his mouth, he tasted the bitter acridness of the pill. His mum had always told him that the worse the taste, the better the medicine, and judging by the strong taste lingering after, this pill had to be Herculean-strong. A few minutes later the pill took effect, clearing his headache. His mind wandered to how he had found himself in this predicament.

Ah yes, it was because of Zayn Malik.

God, how he hated that guy. Around midday on Friday, the medium-sized accounting firm he worked for, Dornan & Highmore, sent its usual month-end email announcing new appointments, terminations, promotions, and resignations. Normally he wouldn’t bother to read the email when it made its way into his inbox, opting to send it directly to his trash folder, but he found himself hovering the white Windows arrow over the email, hesitating as a part of him hoped he would see his name under the promotions headline. He was thinking that maybe, for once, his arsehole boss had decided to recognize all the hard work Liam put into the company and _finally_ give him the partnership promotion he’d been vying for the past few years.

He clicked the email and had read through it quickly. What little excitement that had been building up inside him dashed when he saw his name wasn’t listed under promotions. He skimmed the rest of the email and under the headline ‘New Appointments’ he saw a familiar name; Zayn Malik. He read through the paragraph where he and his colleagues were told to extend a warm welcome to experienced regulatory specialist, Zayn Malik, who had been newly transplanted from his London based firm Blah & Blah & Associates (or whatever it was called) to Dornan & Highmore.

Liam clicked delete and purged his trash bin.

The drinking binge began late Friday night when he recounted Zayn’s appointment at Dornan & Highmore to his friend Louis.

“ _The_ Zayn?” Louis had exclaimed, “who you pretend to hate, but secretly are in love with?”

“Yes and no,” Liam had replied while nursing a chilled Heineken. “Yes, he's coming back and no I'm not in love with him, secretly or otherwise.”

Louis had raised a skeptical brow and gave Liam his best _uh-huh_ look. “Did you or did you not keep a secret, detailed log of Zayn? Or did I happen to imagine that?”

Liam smiled. When he was in high school, it had been perfectly normal for him to keep his Competitors To Beat List journal of scholarly competitors; a list which didn’t just include Zayn in it. Liam had already explained this to Louis.

'To Beat List' more like 'The Guys I'd Like to Beat Off List. Ha!” was Louis’ snide retort. Liam had felt like throwing his bottle at him, but reconsidered as it would be a waste of beer, which was obscenely expensive with all those taxes. He sipped his drink instead.

Louis was wrong. He wasn't in love with Zayn. Sure, he could see what girls or other gay men would see in Zayn; he had a face that stood out in a crowd. His hair was dark, thick, and always perfectly styled on his head and he had deep-set, intelligent, dark eyes. When they were in secondary school, everything about Zayn had been “er”: taller, smarter, and wealthier. Liam had sometimes felt like he would run out of all the “ers” Zayn was to him.

“I don’t fancy him,” Liam said. Louis rolled his eyes while rising from the sofa to collect snacks from the kitchen.

“Yeah, you don’t fancy him,” Louis called out from the kitchen, his voice draped in disbelief. “That's why you're hitting the bottle at the idea of working with him.”

“I finally have something, for maybe the first time in my life that I'm doing well in.” Liam stared at his hands as he fiddled with the beer label. “If he came back, he would I’d never get promoted; he’d hog everyone’s attention.”

“Including yours.” Louis walked in with a tray fill of snacks. He set them on the coffee table and perched on the sofa, scarfing down a large handful of pretzels.

“Jesus, how many times must I say I don't fancy Zayn, before you believe me?”

“Maybe on the third of… never.”

Liam got up and lightly smacked the top of Louis’ hair.

“Ow,” Louis said. “And they say I'm the bitchy one.”

Liam grabbed a handful of roasted almonds and settled on the sofa. Louis had been his closest friend since he had moved in next door to him, three years ago. At first it had been a casual acquaintance thing where they’d greet one another when they encountered each other outside their flat door, making idle small talk. One day Louis had been breaking up with his then boyfriend and Liam had stepped in when the argument became aggressive. Louis had thanked Liam and invited him in after his now ex-boyfriend had left.

There was something about Louis that Liam had liked immediately. Louis was witty and fun, extroverted in a way Liam wasn’t, and easy to talk to. That day they talked into the early hours of the next morning and they had been hanging out together ever since. Louis hadn’t batted an eyelash when Liam had stormed into his flat on Friday evening, the first words out of his mouth being, “Fucking Zayn Malik.”

And two days, countless DVDs and numerous bottles of beer later they were still discussing Zayn.

“He's so obnoxious,” Liam stuffed almonds into his mouth.

“Uh huh.”

“He thinks he is entitled to everything.” This was followed by a swig of beer. “He thinks he can waltz in and grab at anything in sight; my office, my clients, probably my promotion.”

“There's no evidence he's after your promotion.”

“Louis, if I wanted my pity party to be rained on, I would just ask you.” Liam reached for another bottle of beer.

“You have work tomorrow, remember?” Louis got off the sofa, walked over to Liam, and tried to pry the Heineken from his hands.

“No, let me. I can't face that face of his; that forever smirking, self-satisfied smug face.” When Louis’ grip didn’t budge, Liam let go of the bottle, bowing out in defeat.

“Sleep it off,” Louis had said. Those had been the last words Liam heard before drifting off, or rather, passing out on the sofa.

That had been yesterday and right now his head was killing him and he still hated Mondays - more than he hated Zayn Malik. What kind of mate was Louis? Mates didn't let mates drink themselves to a stupor the day their arch nemesis was due to arrive. Now he would have to face Zayn looking like a deadbeat, not getting laid frequently enough, overworked, definitely underpaid and underappreciated loser.

 _Fan-freaking-tastic_.

Liam abandoned his desk, heading to the bathroom where he caught a reflection of himself in the mirror when he walked in. He didn’t look that bad; his eyes were bloodshot and his face was flushed, but nothing screamed LATE-NIGHT BENDER. People probably wouldn’t even notice he looked out of sorts. He washed his face before running damp fingers through his hair. He was blotting his hands dry with a paper towel when he heard the door open. When he turned around, Liam immediately locked eyes with him.

“Hello, Liam. It's been a while,” he said. Still smirking. Still so bloody self-satisfied.

Fucking Zayn Malik.


	2. The Talented Mr Malik

“Fucking Zayn Malik,” Liam found himself saying. He caught himself and added, “I mean, er, you fucking startled me.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Liam shifted uneasily on his feet, wishing he could disappear. He’d hoped that when he finally came face-to-face with Zayn, he’d have all his wits together, not when he was battling a hangover the size of Jupiter.

Liam cleared his throat. “I heard you would be working here starting from today.”

“Did you now?”

 Seriously, did Zayn have to answer everything with a question? It was beginning to grate Liam's already frazzled and hung-over nerves. He dried his hands, buying himself some time while thinking that the conversation was awkward. Liam was tired and he wanted to get to his desk, to his work, and keep his head low, counting down the hours until he could go home and forget about the misery of today.

God, he hated Zayn. Look at him, standing there in his expensive suit (which looked like something out of a GQ magazine spread, an expensive one) and his dark hair cut short on the sides and no longer in the hipster-esque quiff he had worn it in when Liam had last seen him six years ago, a few days after the uni graduation ceremony - Liam shoved the memory of that night as far away in his mind as he could.

Liam cleared his throat, “It's been a while since I've seen you.”

“Likewise man,” Zayn said. “The last time we crossed paths was-”

“I remember.” Liam disposed the tissue into the bin. This wasn't the place or time to rehash old memories. “I'll see you around.”

 He walked out of the bathroom. _Not bad,_ Liam thought. He’d made some decent conversation and he hadn’t looked perturbed by Zayn, at least, outwardly. As soon as he got to his desk, Liam immediately typed out an email to Louis, but thinking about the IT watchdogs, he thought better of it. There was that passage in the ICAS Code of Conduct that stated Liam had to ‘uphold and enforce a high standard of efficiency and professional conduct in the interests of the profession’ and therefore could not spread slander about a fellow accountant.

No emails then. Liam would rather spread such slander on his cellphone. He pulled out his iPhone and texted Louis: _He’s here._ He looked over a report and three minutes later he received a reply from Louis.

_'He' being Zayn Malik, i presume…Exciting… Is he still DDG?_

Liam raised an eyebrow and typed: _DDG???_

_Drop dead gorgeous!!_

_I didn't notice. Gotta go, bye_.

Liam spotted his boss, Fred Dornan, approaching his office, gesticulating with Zayn in tow. He quickly put his cellphone away and pretended to be engrossed in the report he had been reading earlier.

“And this is Liam Payne. He's the reporting Senior Manager.” Fred voice boomed out like it always did when he spoke. Unlike Wendell Highmore, the other name partner, Fred was a self-made man who had kicked and punched his way from his working class background to being a partner at the fastest growing accounting firm in the country. Fred wasn’t a tall man, but he was large in size and had an air about him that commanded respect. He marched into Liam’s office, pot-belly first, his back rod straight, his walk militant and Zayn in tow.

“Liam and I are already acquainted,” Zayn replied. “We attended high school and university together.”

“You must be good mates then,” Fred said. Liam and Zayn looked at each other.

“The best.”

 “Great mates,” they said in unison.

This, of course, was a blatant lie. Liam had been working at Dornan & Highmore for almost six years and he knew ingratiating one’s self to a name partner was the quickest and most efficient way to ascend up the corporate ladder. The quality of your work and billable hours also counted, but they lagged far behind. So Liam subjugated himself by listening to Fred drone about golf with clients, buying his wife a new Lamborghini, and his trips to Tuscany while Liam nodded and smiled all whilst decorating his new office in his head.

Fred was unpleasant. He was rude and obnoxious to anyone he deemed to be beneath him and he also had the tendency of making the managers do most of the work, showing up just to sign off.

“-will show you around,” Fred finished, slapping Liam’s back with a meaty, too warm hand, his yellow, ratty teeth displayed.

“Excellent,” Zayn answered, flashing his own rather white teeth. Liam wondered if he had them bleached or if they were just toothpaste commercial-ready naturally. Fred walked out of Liam’s office, giving them a final nod. Zayn took a seat on one of the visitor’s chairs on the other side of Liam’s desk, still smiling broadly.

“You didn't hear a word we said,” Zayn announced.

“Of course I did,” Liam replied.

“No, you didn’t. You were daydreaming. Mr Croxley used to reprimand you about that.”

“Well that was ages ago; I've since built higher levels of concentration,” Liam said. “Besides, Mr Croxley's classes were boring.”

“Since you were listening and all, what did Dornan say?”

“Uh, he said-” Liam searched his mind, but all he could remember was Fred's pointy, yellow teeth and how annoyed he was with the man. “I wasn't listening,” he finally said, defeated.

Zayn’s presence was calling forth the headache the pills had momentarily quelled this morning and he felt a new onslaught of pain build up in his skull, making him feel manky and desiring nothing more than to close his door, curl on the floor, and sleep. Slim chance of that happening with the talented Mr Malik grinning widely across the table from him.

“Dornan wants you to show me around the office.”

“Wasn’t he showing you around already?

“No, he was bringing me to the person who would be showing me around. That person is you.” Zayn got up and gestured at the door. “Shall we get to it?”

“Of course.” Liam pressed CAD, locked his laptop and stood. “The building isn’t large but it helps to know where everything is.”

“After you then.” Zayn motioned his right arm elaborately. Liam thought briefly how it wasn't in his job description to show around arrogant coworkers. He walked briskly, pointing out things to Zayn as he went along. “This is the break room. There is a coffee, tea, hot chocolate, or hot water dispenser, so you can make tea anytime.”

“Here is the Admin department. They handle all your enquiries regarding your billings, junior staff availability, client invoices etc,” Liam said as they made their way to where they had begun. “And that's it.” Zayn nodded. Liam stood awkwardly in front of Zayn. “I have to get back to work.”

“Oh, don't let me stop you.”

 _I had no intention of doing that_ , Liam thought. What came out of his mouth was, “I’ll see you around.” He turned on his heel and went to his desk.


	3. Lady doth protest too much

Louis was telling Liam about his new boyfriend. Sometime after the graphic description of said new boyfriend’s cock, Liam had drifted off and started thinking about Zayn, and how badly he wanted him to be shipped back to London. Far, far away from him. He sighed.

“-normally a compliment to say so. Yeah?” Louis looked at him as if he needed a reply. Fuck, Zayn was right, he still daydreamed.

“Huh?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Dare I guess what's on your mind?”

“Work stuff.”

“Someone dark haired with sexy brown eyes?”

“Enough already. I don’t fancy Zayn.”

“Who said anything about Zayn?”

“Well, I know for sure you weren’t talking about Fred,” Liam retorted. “I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

“Did you hear anything at all?”

Liam gave him a pained smile. “Harry has a nice looking cock?”

Louis threw his hands in the air. “He really gets to you, huh? I'll forgive you since you are my dearest friend and I blame your distraction on a bad case of unresolved sexual tension. Not all of us can have impeccable taste in men.”

“Like Harry.”

“Yes, Harry.” Louis’ voice became animated. “He’s really smart and creative and romantic-”

“He sounds great.”

 “Don't worry Liam, I know there's someone out there for you.”

“I'm not looking for someone.”

“Oh, Liam,” Louis said, scooting to sit right beside him, his blue eyes imploring. “What you need is to get some action.” He sighed in fake daintiness. “I don't know how to say this without being a tad rude and offending your delicate sensibilities-”

Liam snorted.

Ignoring him, Louis continued. “But you need some serious, all night long rogering,” Liam covered his ears and Louis reached out and pulled his hands away, speaking louder, “I would help you out, seriously, but we both know we’re not into each other like that. I’m sure Zayn would love to bend you over and rock your world, as well as your bed.”

Liam burst out laughing and when he had finished sputtering, Louis spoke. “Liam sourpuss expression vanquished let’s proceed, how was work?”

“I don’t fancy Zayn,” Liam said. “I swear.”

“All I asked was how work was.”

“I had to give him the office tour. You should have seen him standing around being all pompous like our office is beneath him or something,” Liam vented. “He should go back to London to his fancy offices with their even fancier view of the Thames.”

“Now you're being childish.”

“No, I'm not.” After a moment, he continued. “Okay maybe just a little bit, he doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me.”

“Gee, I would’ve never had noticed.”

“And the worst part is I have to stand around and act civil towards him when all I want to do is throttle the living daylights out of him.”

“All right, Payne. Go to bed; tomorrow's a work day. I'm going to go home and call Harry and see if he’s interested in giving me a booty call.”

Louis got up, practically skipping to the door. God, Liam found it so irritating when people were in love and they decided to make a public spectacle of it. But Louis was his mate, his best mate, and he wished him the best because he deserved to be happy.

He got up and locked the door before collecting the take away containers and plastic culinary scattered on the table, sofa, and floor. He disposed of them into the kitchen bin and went to the loo, where he brushed his teeth. After changing and climbing into bed, he found himself thinking he needed to go out more often and find other ways to spend his evenings besides fuming about Zayn Malik.

He needed to forget about present Zayn, who rocked up in his life unexpectedly, suited up, poised, and different from that boy from high school who said one thing to him and another to his friends. Liam squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to see the images that came to mind, still clear as ever despite the years, still having the power to arouse and bewilder him at the same time. He shoved them aside until they were no more. He had to fight these old ghosts and he had to get on with his life, even if Zayn had come back.

Especially since Zayn had come back.


	4. The Harry Problem Part 1

His alarm clock woke him up the next morning. He turned it off, reclining back into bed, his mind still occupied with his dreams. Barely coherent images of grasping hands, entangled limbs, and hushed whispers filled his mind.

 He was boiling water for his coffee when he heard frantic knocking at the same time his cellphone rang. He grabbed his phone.

“Hello?”

“Liam, I know you’re awake. Open up.”

He could hear Louis' voice from the other side of his door as well as in the receiver. “Are you calling from my front door?”

“Yes, open up!”

Liam switched his phone off, opened the door, and Louis barged in. “Let me guess? Harry.”

“Yes,” He perched himself on a kitchen stool. “You’re making coffee? Make me some as well.”

“How can I refuse when you ask so nicely?”

“Okay, where do I start? Harry came over last night after I called him. So we did it and it was great and everything. Afterwards we're lying in bed talking about stuff and I’m telling him a very edited version of all the guys I've _you know-ed_ with, you know?”

 Liam nodded. He knew all _too_ well.

“Anyway, so Harry starts telling me about himself and guess what?”

Liam shook his head.

“He said I’m the first guy he’s slept with.” Louis paused, looking at him.

Liam said. “So?”

“ _So?_ So I didn’t want to be a guy’s first. That’s too much pressure. Aren’t you supposed to tell someone _before_ the act? He should have warned me or something.”

“Uhh, I’m not sure.”

“He says he’s dated only women,” Louis said. “Before me.”

“Maybe he’s bi?”

“I don’t know. I don't want to get serious with him only for him to tell me he saw some chick topless and it’s over between us,” Louis said then sat up. “Or worse. What if he decides he’s in love with me? I’m too young to get married.” Louis took a deep breath. “So, I’ve come up with a plan.”

Liam poured him a cup of coffee, “What's your plan?”

Louis smiled mysteriously, “You.”

 “Me?”

“I want you to sleep with Harry.”

“Louis, I can't.” Liam couldn't believe he would even suggest this.

“Yes, you can. For me.” Louis’lips turned down in what Liam imagined was Louis best little-boy-lost impression. “Imagine if I fell in love with him and we got married and then he decides he’s into girls. I would never get over it and all the time you could have prevented by doing a small favour for your dear, dear friend who sits and listens to you whine on-”

“I don't whine,” Liam interrupted.

Louis ignored him. “Who listens to you whine on and on about a certain, dark-headed, former London resident.”

Liam sighed. “What makes you think Harry will even go for me?'

“Oh, come one, Liam. You're a good looking guy. You have that wide-eyed doe in the headlights thing working for you. Oh, and I have to spend hours working out to look vaguely good in a sleeveless vest while you barely lift a can of beans and you’re all ripped out. Trust me, if Harry is into dick, he will totally go for you.”

Liam considered for a moment. “No, I won’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“It's not right. It's not ethical.”

“Oh god, I'm not asking you to dip your pen into the company ink. I'm just asking you to do me a small favour, _please_.”

“Okay, I'll think about it. I have to shower and get ready for work. I want you gone by the time I’m done, you hear me?” Louis nodded then took another sip of his coffee.

When Liam got out the shower, Louis was gone as promised. Liam didn't even think of what Louis had requested of him. He had to chat up some lad? In which universe would that work? He had enough trouble getting dates of his own.

His mind was occupied with thoughts of Harry and he had already half-talked himself out of doing what Louis requested when he drove into work. He pulled into the parkade, turning in his slot, and braked hard. There, in his parking bay, was a black Mercedes CLS occupying the bay like it was its birth right. Liam reversed his car and parked in the dodgy, visitor’s parking bay, glowering as he stepped into a puddle when he got out of his car. The anonymous wanker was obnoxious to park there, when it was written, clear as fucking day, “Reserved Parking”. He walked into his office, greeting Michelle, the secretary, on the way in.

He came to a dead halt when he found a smiling Zayn Malik perched on Liam’s desk, arms folded across his chest, dressed in another expensive suit, always magazine spread ready.

“If you haven’t noticed, the door says Liam Payne,” Liam said as he dropped his bag on the desk.

Zayn got up. “Good morning to you too.”

Before Liam could reply Fred walked in. “Payne, you're finally here.”

Liam glanced at Fred then back to Zayn. God, it was only Tuesday and he needed a break. The blows kept coming; whatever these two were plotting wasn't good. _Anything_ that made Zayn look pleased with himself wasn't good.

“From now on, you two will be working on the Blackwell account together. I've already informed Zayn all the details. Plot some clerks to assist you.” He looked at Liam. “Crack on with it.”

“Yes, sir,” Liam said. Fred left and Liam turned to Zayn. “This is my office.”

“They’re still finishing the renovations on the 4th floor offices. Fred said since we’ll be working on the Blackwell account together, we might as well share one, temporarily, of course,” Zayn said, then added, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Liam was lying through his teeth; of course he minded. He minded having his routine screwed up, his best friend asking demands of him, his parking space taken, and his office invaded.

“I'm asking because you look like you do.”

“Can we just work?”

“Okay.” Zayn threw him the file. “Fred briefed me about the client and we’re meeting them later on today at their Manchester offices.” Liam groaned internally. Today would be worse than yesterday if that was possible.

“There’s no reason for both of us to go,” Liam said.

“I don't mind - in fact, I insist. I have to immerse myself into the firm,” Zayn replied. “If you don't want to go, I'll attend the meeting on my own.”

So he could take all the credit once the job was done? Fuck that. “I want to go.”

Zayn read the brief again. “Manchester – what a blast from the past.”

“It hasn't been so long,” Liam said.

“For me it feels like uni was ages ago,” Zayn said. Liam remembered Zayn, how he had looked then, in jeans, an easy smile on his face, and walking to class while he finished off a cigarette.

Liam became aware of Zayn's eyes studying him and felt as if his thoughts were written all over his face. “What do you know about the Blackwell account?”

“They are rapidly expanding jewellery company wholly owned by Corba Jewellers.”

Liam nodded. “Which makes them very important to this firm. This is why I should go on my own as I’ve -”

“I’m sure the execs there would feel we appreciate their business even more by granting them extra care by sending two senior managers.”Zayn said. There was nothing else he could say to win this fight so Liam decided to agree with Zayn.

“I’ll looked over the prior year file,” Liam said. “Then I’ll draft an engagement letter.”

“No need, I completed it last night.” This was said with a smug smirk which made Liam want to reach over and throttle Zayn until his too-handsome face turned blue. “Please feel free to ask the resource planner to plot junior staff on the client.”

 Now he was being delegated tasks? Liam pulled out his laptop watching Zayn get off his desk and walk out. Once he was alone Liam checked his cellphone. There were new WhatsApp messages from Louis.

“ _Have u considered it yet?”_ Then; “ _Pls say yes_.” Which was followed with, “ _I really like dis guy_ ”

Liam sighed and typed: “ _Seduction isn’t my thing_.” He was sending the message when Zayn came back, carrying his laptop bag. He took out the laptop and placed it on the desk opposite Liam and sat down on one of the two visitor chairs Liam had. Liam refrained from sighing. His phone beeped. He glanced at the message banner.

“ _Consider it practice 4 Zayn_ ” And then, “ _Come over after work & i’ll give u some pointers_.”

Liam rolled his eyes and typed. “ _I’ll come over but only coz I don’t have any food_.”

“ _I’ll make macaroni & cheese_.” Louis WhatsApped back.

Liam logged onto his laptop. What to do first? Resources. They needed to plot clerks for the Blackwell engagement. He opened up Outlook and drafted an email.

#### ***

The decision was to leave the office at eleven and drive to Manchester.At precisely ten-fifty Zayn promptly announced, “Time to go.” Liam packed his laptop, grabbed his keys and followed Zayn out of his office and into the lift. “By the way, we’ll be taking my car,” Zayn said, “if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Liam said through clenched teeth.

“I do remember your taste in cars back in uni. Tiny pieces of metal which were probably a hazard to drive.” They walked into the parking lot, Zayn leading the way like he always liked to do. Liam refrained from gaping when they approach the black Mercedes. _Of course_.

“Did you not see the reserve sign on the bay?” Liam asked when Zayn remotely unlocked the car.

“No.” Zayn opened the boot and put his laptop into it. Liam did likewise. “Why?”

“It’s _my_ parking spot.”

“I had no idea.”

And something in the way Zayn said it made Liam know he knew _exactly_ where he parked. It was part of his grand scheme to make everything about Liam’s working life horrible. Liam got into the passenger seat, taking in the condition of the car. It was pristine, new and masculine. The scent that lingered in it embodied Zayn: woody, slightly dangerous, yet appealing. Appealing? _Get a grip, Payne_. Liam thought to himself. _Don’t let him suck you into his world. Not again_.

With a silent prayer, a curse, and a grimace, Liam closed the door.

#### ***

“Do you have anything better than Radio One?” Liam asked. In his car he never listened to the radio; he had a stack of CDs with all his favorite bands. He wished he had had the forethought to bring them with him, but here he was in a car with Zayn and distasteful Top of the Charts music.

“Of course, check in the compartment there,” Zayn indicated. Liam reached out and began to rummage, finding the slim CD case with neatly labeled home-burnt CDs.

“CB? RATM,” Liam read out. “I’ve never heard of these bands.”

“It’s an abbreviation – Chris Brown and Rage against the Machine,” Zayn replied. They were now pulling into the motorway.

“Oh,” Liam said more to himself. He selected a CD, slid it into the CD player, and the car was soon filled with belligerent rapping.

“That’s Rage Against the Machine,” Zayn said, causing Liam to glance at him.

“They certainly do sound like they are filled with rage,” he replied, which elicited a chuckle from Zayn.

Nothing more was said the rest of the drive. Liam spent it looking out the window, watching the familiar streets of Manchester. Like an invisible cord, the second they had driven up past Oxford Street, he felt the tension in his spine return. He kept perfectly still, trying not to relay in thought, action, or breath how tense he was.He wondered if Zayn ever missed his time at the University of Manchester, or if it was just a blur of uneventful days, a mirage of lectures, and drunken nights. One particular night could have changed everything for Liam and was a blip on Zayn’s radar. Liam determinedly fixed his gaze ahead and only once Oxford Street was far, far away in the side mirror did Liam feel like he could breathe again.

They arrived at the Blackwell head offices and met with the Financial Manager and CEO, exchanging smiles and greetings before the engagement letter was signed. A light lunch was served and soon they were done, speeding down the freeway, heading back to their own offices. Zayn spoke a few times, interrupting the peaceful silence with the low thrum of his voice, making observations about the client and commenting on the new deadline for the completed financials. The deadline was close, but it wasn’t something they couldn’t handle.

Liam said as much, enjoying the soft cadence of Zayn’s voice when he replied. He willed himself to retreat into his thoughts, letting Zayn fade away. He had been here before and he knew how it ended.

The sun was disappearing by the time they arrived back. Liam curtly said goodbye to Zayn in the parkade and got into his car and drove home.


	5. The Harry Problem Part 2

Liam was letting himself into his flat when Louis’ door opened and Louis appeared, white apron tied around his waist, spoon in hand.

“Care to taste my sauce?’” Louis asked. He held out a wooden spoon, smeared in bright red sauce.

“No. Gross.” Liam opened the door and walked in, not bothering to close it after himself because he knew Louis would follow in after him.

“So, babes. How was work?” Louis asked. Liam pulled off his coat and hung it on the rack next to the door. He loosened his tie and folded up his shirt.

“Slightly less painful than Monday.”

“Did Zayn mess around with you?”

“He parked in my spot and then he got himself on the Blackwell account because he stayed late in the office yesterday working on the engagement letter so he would look like the superstar manager and make me look like I’m a lazy dosser. He wants the partner job that’s opened, no other reason. They obviously weren’t going to give it to him at his London firm so he thought he could come here and move up the ladder at my expense.”

“Are you quite finished?”

Liam nodded.

“I say fuck him and then fuck him over.”

“Not every problem can be resolved with sex.”

“What? Really, say that isn’t so.” Louis rolled his eyes. “There is one which can be. The Harry problem. Have you come to a decision?”

“Will I seduce your boyfriend just to prove to you he is, indeed, into dick?”

“Yes. So, have you?”

“I’ll probably regret this, but yes I’ll help.” Louis wrapped his arms around Liam, the spoon swinging too precariously close to Liam’s eyes for comfort. He patted Louis’ back before he pulled away from the hug. “I’m agreeing to help your boyfriend cheat on you. It’s not exactly a hug worthy situation.”

“He wouldn’t be cheating on me.”

“What?”

“We have an open relationship.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever. Haven’t I told you?”

“I’m sure I would remember if you mentioned that you allow your boyfriend to fuck other people behind your back.”

“One, it’s not behind my back if I know about it. Two, he’s not the only one who’s allowed to see other people.”

Liam walked to the fridge. He needed a drink if he was going to make it through this conversation. He pulled out two bottles of Heineken and passed one to Louis before he opened his and took a swig. “Since when has this open relationship been a thing for you?”

“After the last guy I dated.” Louis placed the spoon down and sat on the stool next to the kitchen counter. “Carl, you remember him?”

“The rugby player?”

“Yeah, I caught him in bed with his coach – such a cliché I know, it was insulting. And I forgave him afterwards when he promised he wouldn’t do it again. Anyway, he cheated again and after we broke up I realised the reason my relationships weren’t working was because I’d was trying so hard to be monogamous.”

“What’s the point of me seducing him if he’s allowed to fuck other people all willy nilly and you knowing about it?”

“I want to make sure he is actually into men.”

“He’s dating you, isn’t he?” Liam sat on the stool beside Louis. “Doesn’t that make him at least bi?”

“I feel like he’s experimenting and I don’t want to be dumped for some bird along the road.” Louis twisted the lid off his beer. “You’ve agreed to do it, so it’s too late to be asking questions now.”

“Call me when supper’s ready. I’m taking a shower,” Liam took his beer along with him when he went to his bedroom. Louis was more than capable of finding his way out the door. He pulled his work clothes off and polished off his beer before he got into the shower.

Once he was done he wiped away the fog from his mirror, studying his nude reflection. He needed to attend gym he hadn’t been since last month and the muscle definition he had been working on obtaining (not as effortless as Louis would believe) was starting to give way to the impact of holding a desk job. He flexed his arms and shoulders, pleased when he could make out some definition before he retreated his bedroom in time to find his phone vibrating as a new text came in from Louis.

“ _Food’s ready, your Highness_.” It read.

Liam pocketed his phone and went next door to Louis’.


	6. Wacky Wednesday

Liam was seated at his desk when Zayn returned back from his lunch break and dropped a packaged burger on his laptop keyboard.

“What’s that?” Liam asked.

“It’s Wacky Wednesday; buy one burger get one free.”

“I know it’s a burger. What I don’t understand is why you have bought me one.”

Zayn sat down on his side of the table. “It’s an apology.”

Liam perked up. _Interesting_. “An apology?”

“It was unfair of me to talk my way into the Blackwell account.” Zayn unfolded his burger wrapper, taking out a burger that smelt way too good. “I’m saying sorry and I promise that I’m on the account purely to get experience so I can include the Blackwell name in my portfolio.”

Liam reached the burger, unwrapping then biting into it. The combination of cheddar, flame-grilled beef patty, and the sweet-sour gherkin, crisp lettuce, onion, and tomato was so good that he had to resist the urge to moan.

Zayn pulled out chips and offered them to Liam. “The chips are equally just as good.”

“They’re handmade. How can they not be?” Liam took two and bit into them. Crispy and salty on the outside, mushy on the inside. _Delicious._ During his uni days he lived for Wacky Wednesdays. Not being made of money, buying take-away was something he couldn’t afford to do often, but the Wednesday burger special was the one luxury he indulged in.

Not knowing if it was the food talking or not, Liam found himself saying, “Apology accepted.”

#### ***

Fred called them into his office after lunch.

“The Blackwell managers were pleased,” he said from behind his oversized desk as they sat down.

“That’s good to hear, sir,” Zayn replied.

“They’re so pleased, that they would like to have you give the corporate governance presentation at their Board meeting this Saturday.” Fred leaned across to place a large fist on his desk. “I’m going to say this once; don’t screw up. This could mean this firm finally getting BT Technologies.”

“We promise to do our best,” Liam waited to see if there was anything else, but Fred was typing away at his keyboard. Liam got to his feet and Zayn followed suit. They got to his office and Zayn closed the door after they walked in.

“Fred’s a tosser,” Zayn said as he sat down.

“Oh, what gives you that idea?”

“His everything,” Zayn answered. “What’s BT Technologies?”

“It’s Blackwell’s sister company and Fred’s white whale. He’s been chasing after it for years, but it’s always alluded us.”

“If he wants BT so badly, why wouldn’t he go and give the presentation himself?”

“The Blackwell CEO, Alex Forsythe, is an old uni acquaintance of Fred’s. There’s a bit of bad blood between them.” Liam opened up Outlook and drafted an email to Michele. He needed to buy her something nice for her birthday, given the way he was always emailing her a list of demands every other day. “I’m having Michele book our flights and accommodation for this Saturday,” he said.

“Flights?”

“The company’s head office is in Edinburgh.” Liam finished typing and pressed send.

#### ***

“You and Zayn are going where?” Louis asked.

Liam resisted the urge to roll his eyes because people above the age sixteen shouldn’t roll their eyes. “We’re being sent to Scotland to present at the Blackwell board meeting.”

“Your dates with Zayn are being funded by D&H?”

“It’s not a date.” Liam set down his bowl of pasta and faced Louis. “We’re going to present at a Board meeting, linger for some meet and greet, stay over one night in Edinburgh, then fly back on Sunday.”

“Sounds like a date to me.”

“What sort of dates do you go on?” Louis opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Liam quickly went on. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“Since we’re in the subjects of dates-” Louis placed his feet on Liam’s coffee table. Liam kicked them off. Louis continued to talk. “Harry’s playing squash at the gym tomorrow.”

“So?”

“So, you’ll be there as well and suss out if he’s interested in a night out with you.”

“Louis, I don’t think-”

“Come on, Liam, you can’t change your mind. You’ve already agreed so you can’t say you won’t do it.”

 “I’ll do it, but it doesn’t mean I’ll like it.” Liam said.

“That’s what I like to hear.”


	7. Work it Out

On Thursday after work, Liam headed to xActive instead of going home. He swiped his way through the turnstile and walked to the lockers to change. It was six-thirty and if Louis was correct, Harry should be finishing his squash match and would be heading to do some cardio. His machine of choice was the elliptical trainer.

Earlier, Louis had texted him an image of Harry. Liam pulled out his phone and looked at it again. Harry was cute with a headful of curls, wide friendly eyes, and a pair of dimples on either side of his smiling mouth. The embodiment of the term ‘sweet-looking’ in the flesh. Not his type. Liam liked his men a bit less boyish. He liked them with an air of mystery and sweet was not an adjective that could easily be used to describe them. In fact, the guys he liked were a bit like -

Someone bumped into him and his phone was falling, shattering onto the floor with a disheartening _crack!_

“Shit. Sorry, mate.” A bleached blond head bent to pick up the phone and Liam was looking at a pair of blue eyes. “Your phone is a bit buggered.”

Liam retrieved his phone from the pale hands holding them out. “It’s my fault. I was standing in the way.”

“I can cover the repair cost.” The blond guy was digging into the oversized gym bag he was carrying, pulling out something. It was a… business card? The guy handed it to Liam. “My brother runs a tech repair shop and coincidentally enough, he specialises in phones. Sorry again for that.”

Liam looked at the card. ‘Horan Repairs’, it read. There was a phone number, an email, and a business address listed beneath the black text. “It’s all right.”

The guy ran a hand through his damp blond hair. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“I usually don’t come to the gym mid-week.”

“You should. That’s when it’s not as crowded.” The guy adjusted his bag on his shoulder, causing the loose vest to go askew, giving Liam an unobstructed view of one pale, pink nipple. The front of the guy’s white vest was dampened with sweat and clung to his chest. “I’m Niall,” he said, smiling.

Liam reached his right hand out to shake Niall’s. “Liam.”

“Well, Liam. I conduct the 5pm cycling classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You should check it out.” Niall was sweaty and flushed and, yes, attractive. Liam was not sure if Niall was flirting with him or not. He let go of his hand when he became aware he had been holding onto it for far too long.

“Uh, I’ll definitely consider it.” Liam smiled back, wondering if he should ask Niall out. When he saw Harry walk through the door, Liam said instead, “Thanks for the phone repair referral.” Before following after Louis’ boyfriend.

Harry was at an open locker, putting his squash gear away. Liam saddled up beside him and opened the next door locker.

“Hello,” Liam said.

Harry was rummaging in the locker so he had to pull his head away and look around the metal door. “Hi.”

“I’m new at the gym,” Liam said. “I’m not sure what the best machine to use, at least, Cardio-wise.”

“Some people like the treadmill, but I find it a bit too hard on my shins. I mostly use the elliptical machine. It’s pretty safe if you’re new to working out.” Harry looked him up and down. “You look like you’re in good shape so I’m sure none of the machines would be unsafe for you to use.”

“Thanks, that was helpful,” Liam said. Befriending Harry was so easy Liam felt bad. The whole way to the cardio area, Harry talked. He told Liam about the group of elderly people he played squash with, the classes he took at the gym, which times were best to attend, which instructors were up to standard, and which weren’t. Harry was so guileless Liam considered texting Louis to have explicit verification sent to him proving Harry was legal because he was afraid that wasn’t the case.

They set up the timer on the elliptical and began twenty minutes of tedious movement. Throughout Harry told Liam about the course he was completing at school ( _school!_ Liam thought) and how his professors ( _uni?_ Liam wondered) were overloading him with work.

“So, you’re in uni?” Liam asked

“Yes, and you?”

“I’m done. I completed a couple of years back,” Liam replied. “What are you studying?”

“Veterinarian sciences. I want to be a vet.” Harry brushed back hair that was sticking to his forehead. “My stepfather has a farm and I spent a lot of time on it when I was younger, I’ve always enjoyed being around animals.”

“I’m an accountant. It seemed like a safe choice.”

“And how do you find it?”

 “Meh.”

“Have you considered trying something else?”

“After the amount of money my family spent educating me? Not an option,” Liam said. “It should get better once I progress further in the field and do less grunt work.” Or that’s what he had been told.

They reached the end of the twenty minutes. Harry stepped off the machine. “That’s it for me.”

“Umm, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Liam asked quickly.

“I have a boyfriend,” Harry said.

“Oh.” A wave of relief washed over Liam. He’d go back to Louis and tell him he had tried and failed. Harry wasn’t opting to make use of the revolving door in front of their relationship. Louis would need to find out another way if Harry was into the rest of the male species and not just Louis Tomlinson.

“I need to check if it’s okay with him before I accept,” Harry said, dashing any hopes of Liam walking away from this cleanly. “Can I give you my number?” Liam pulled his phone from his track pants and handed it to Harry, who typed his number and saved it before returning it to Liam. “I’m looking forward to hearing from you.” Harry smiled and left.

Liam went to the treadmill and jogged for forty minutes. Afterwards, he collected his bag from the lockers. He noticed the poster with all the gym staff and saw Niall’s picture up on the wall. Niall was in the xActive staff uniform, smiling broadly. ‘Niall Horan – cycling instructor’, the poster read. Liam stared at it briefly, wondering what Niall’s classes were like, if he was one of the instructors whose classes Harry considered ‘up to standard’. Niall certainly looked up to standard - fit and confident in his uniform. Liam left the gym and headed home.


	8. The Office

Liam missed the privacy of his office. He missed being able to mumble to himself when working on a report without worrying about looking mental. He missed chuckling when one of his mates sent him a funny video. He hated being self-conscious of his posture (was he slouching?), of his breathing (too loud and wheezy), the awkward silence, and acute awareness of Zayn’s presence made him feel taut and pulled too tight like a rubber band ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

He was enjoying a few minutes alone as Zayn had disappeared to parts unknown earlier. He had been working on a report for one of his minor clients and once it was completed, he found himself going onto the xActive website and searching for Niall Horan on its list of trainers. When he found Niall’s profile, he clicked on it. It had the same information listed as the board in the gym; Niall Horan, cycling instructor. Classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He clicked on Niall’s bio and read about Niall being an acclaimed road racing cyclist, having been second runner-up in in the Irish National Road Race Championship. Shortly afterwards he had suffered a debilitating knee injury and his professional career had been halted. Niall now coached at the local college and as a cycling trainer at xActive. Feeling like a stalker, Liam closed the webpage. He had never particularly enjoyed cycling, but he wouldn’t be opposed to sitting in on one of Niall’s classes.

#### ***

Before lunchtime, he received a call from Louis.

“Guess who’s smitten with you?” Louis asked when Liam answered.

“Harry?”

“Correct. The lad was really eager to tell me all about a brown-eyed hunk he met at the gym yesterday.”

“So, you’re giving your approval Harry to go out with me?”

“Harry doesn’t need my approval. All he had to do was notify me of his intention to go out with you.”

Liam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was about to respond when Zayn came back and sat down at his desk. Liam sat up and tried to sound business-like. “I’ll await Mr Styles’ call to establish a date.”

Louis laughed. “Has young Zayn returned?”

“Yes.”

“I bet you’re secretly loving sharing your office with him. I saw you when you were leaving this morning. I don’t remember you styling your hair as much when it was just _numero uno_.”

“Thanks for the notification. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I bet you spend all day staring at him. Ohh, Zayn’s eyes are _so_ beautiful and he’s lashes are _so_ long and every time I look at his lips I can’t help but imagine them wrapped around my co-”

Liam hung up.

#### ***

Friday afternoon Liam received a text from Harry. “ _Do you wanna have drinks tonight_?”

He typed a text in response. “ _Sure, can we meet up at the pub on Duncan Street_?”

“ _7 should be about all right_.”

#### ***

When 5pm arrived, Liam was more than ready to leave the office. He was packing his bag when Zayn said, “Whose car are we taking tomorrow to the airport?”

“Since you drove last time, I don’t mind driving,” Liam replied as he zipped up his laptop bag. “Michelle emailed the flight itinerary.”

“We need to go through the presentation before the meeting.”

“Okay, we can rehearse tomorrow.” Liam picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, his mind already on what the traffic was like and if he’d have enough time to head home and change before meeting Harry.

“I’d feel more comfortable if we went over it now.”

“Zayn, it’s a Friday. The last place I want to be is in the office.”

Zayn crossed his arms and his grown-up persona fell away like a theatre curtain as a dark scowl crossed his face, giving Liam a glimpse of that boy he knew from high school: brooding, petulant, and demanding. “This presentation could mean D&H winning the BT Technologies account. That means both of us making partner much, much sooner. This isn’t uni anymore, so you have no excuse to be slacking around.” Liam flexed his jaw and dropped his laptop down on his desk, where it landed with a loud _thud_ before collapsing onto its side.

“I’ve been working on this account for two years. I’m more than familiar with all the ins and outs.” Liam could feel the pulse of his heart in his chest and the throb of blood in his forehead. He knew his face was red and he was close to losing his temper. “I’ve gone days without sleeping to meet statutory deadlines. I’m not a slacker _._ I just don’t see the need to overkill a simple presentation.”

“If it’s so _simple_ then it won’t kill you to spare thirty minutes from your precious calendar to go through it one last time.”

“Fine. Let’s do it.” This was typical of Zayn. They could have gone through the fucking presentation anytime during the fucking day but no, he chose just as Liam was about to leave to decide that was the best time to do it. Fucking obnoxious two-faced wanker.

Zayn started Powerpoint and turned his laptop around. He did the introduction as they had agreed on. Liam took over, listing the talking points that they would be covering. They went over the presentation, Zayn easing into his charming persona like it was a well-fitting suit, pausing and laughing in all the right places, a practiced smile spreading on his face. Liam didn’t bother with niceties. It wasn’t as if there was an audience here anyway. He went through his slides, glaring frequently at Zayn. Once they reached the last slide he picked his laptop bag and walked out without saying goodbye.


	9. Liam’s three boy weekend

#### Part 1 - Harry

Duncan Pub was busy when Liam arrived. He had walked from his flat and was immediately glad for it because there wasn’t a single parking bay on the street available. People stood outside, talking and smoking in groups. He was wondering why the place was so packed until he stepped inside the pub and saw that most of the patrons were donned out in team colours and a football match was playing on the large LCD television screens. Most of the small wooden tables and chairs were occupied, but Liam managed to find a table in the back corner. It was wet with spilled beer and some fast food grease left behind by the previous patron. He was considering finding another venue when he spotted Harry arriving. Liam waved at him. Harry broke out into a smile and walked towards Liam. He looked different out of his gym gear: dressed in skinny jeans, a print shirt and a corduroy blazer. Less boyish, but just as cute.

“It’s a bit mad out here tonight,” Liam said when Harry sat down opposite to him. He noticed how Harry’s hair had been slicked back into a messy ponytail, a few tendrils falling tucked behind his ear. Louis was a fan of adventurous hairstyles himself. When Liam had first met him, he had worn his hair a shocking white-blond.

“I forgot about the match.” Harry eyed the greasy wet mess on the table, careful his arms didn’t accidentally brush it. “The local team’s playing.”

“To be honest, I don’t follow football.”

“My sister is a nutter over the game so I know more than I would if she wasn’t.”

Liam waved at one of the frazzled looking waiters. “What do you want to drink?”

“I’ll have a lager.”

The waiter came to their table, wiping down the mess while he took their orders of two lagers.

 “I was surprised you texted me today. I think it’s strange you have a boyfriend who doesn’t mind you seeing other people,” Liam said. Despite Louis explaining the whole ‘open relationship’ thing, he still found it peculiar.

“I was sceptical at first.” Harry brushed a stray hair away from his face before placing his hand down. “But I trust Louis – that’s my boyfriend’s name – and if this is what he wants, then it’s fine by me. Plus, if we didn’t have this arrangement, I wouldn’t be sitting with you right now.”

“So it’s a win-win situation?” Liam asked. “You’re not worried you’ll get jealous if he’s with someone else?”

“I don’t think I will. Other people don’t count because I know in the long run it’s going to be me and him.”

Liam raised a brow. “I’m not going to take offence because I know that probably sounded different in your head.”

Harry carefully reached across the table to grab his hand. “No other relationship can eclipse mine and Louis’. It’s important you understand that.”

To change the topic Liam said, “How was uni today?”

“We had to look at animal cadavers.” Harry grimaced as he drank his beer. “Very unpleasant and disgusting.”

“It’ll be worth it when you’re a vet and you spend your days with cute, fluffy dogs and cats.”

“I’m sure. What did you get up to today?”

“I spent most of the day doing preliminary work on one client. We’re doing a presentation for them tomorrow in Edinburgh.”

“You get to travel for work. Cool.”

“It would be if the guy I worked with wasn’t such a cunt.” Liam swallowed down his beer and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as Harry gaped at him.

“Liam, there I was thinking you’re such a proper, polite bloke and I shouldn’t swear in front of you, but then you say something like that.” Harry shook his head. “What could this fellow possibly have done for you to dislike him?”

Liam felt the familiar spike of irritation he got whenever he thought of Zayn. “Well, for starters, he and I went to school together, so I’ve known of his devious ways for a long time. He only moved back here so he could get on the express train to partner-dom. Oh and he gets appointed on _my_ client and does most of the work to look good on my behalf.”

“Whoa, so much pent up resentment there. I’m sure you’re misconstruing his intentions.”

The local team scored and the entire pub erupted in loud cheers. The bunch of them sounded like they well on their way to getting lairy. The noise levels didn’t diminish and Liam found himself leaning across the table, raising his voice. “I highly doubt that.” Liam drank down the remainder of his beer. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Harry nodded. Liam got up, elbowing and pushing his way through the crowd milled around at the counter. He paid for the beers and pushed his way back to the table, collected his coat, and he and Harry walked out.

“I took a Metrolink to get here,” Harry said. They walked up the street to the Metrolink light tram stop, where they waited for the next bus. Harry told Liam about the other classes he took for his course and in no time the bus arrived and they got on. Harry’s place was relatively close, making the bus ride short. Soon they disembarked and down a posh tree-line street. Liam knew the suburb. It had big town cars parked out in front of bigger houses.

“Accommodation here must be expensive,” Liam took in his surroundings; double storey houses outfitted with tennis courts and pool houses.

“I share a house with some mates.”

They walked until they came to a brown double-storey house. Harry opened the gate and let Liam go first. They reached the large, front door and Harry pulled out a key to let them inside. They were barely through the door when a blonde ran up to them and jumped on Harry.

“Haz, you’re back!” the blonde exclaimed as she placed a kiss on Harry’s cheek. Harry unwrapped her arms from his neck and settled her down. She finally noticed Liam and smiled coldly. “Who’s he?”

“This is Liam. Liam this is Petunia- one of my housemates,” Harry said. When he mentioned sharing the house, Liam had imagined spotty, university geeks. Blokes, not perky, petite blondes.

“Nice to meet you, Petunia,” The unfriendly glare in her blue eyes declared the feeling was not returned.

“Hi,” She said frostily and walked away.

Harry grabbed his hand. “My room’s upstairs.”

 Liam allowed himself to be led up the flight of stairs until they reached Harry’s room, Harry opened the door and turned on the lights. His room looked like a typical uni student’s: there was a small study table by a large window and clothes were strewn all over the place. A small desk occupied the corner of the room and had a desktop computer and textbooks piled precariously high. Harry pulled him towards him and they fell onto his bed, Liam landing on top of him. He kissed Liam, who tried to keep a respectable distance between their groins. After a while Harry turned them over so he was on top before leaning down to mouth the side of Liam’s neck.

“Do you want some music on?” Harry asked, his breath hot against Liam’s neck.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Harry got off him and placed his iPhone on the docking deck, fiddling with it. Liam looked at the bed stand. Amidst a cellphone charger, deodorant, and loose change was a framed picture of a smiling Louis. He stared at it and ran a hand roughly through his hair before collapsing back onto the bed. Harry had decided on a song. The tune which Liam didn’t recognise, but it was soft and pleasant enough. Harry got back on the bed. Liam turned on his side so he was facing Harry.

“Why do you think your boyfriend suggested you have an open relationship?” Liam asked quietly. Harry was silent for a while before he answered.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied.

“Did you want to see other people besides him?” Liam asked while he regarded him. Harry was staring up at the ceiling and he let go of Liam’s hand.

“I think he doesn’t believe I love him,” Harry mumbled after a little while.

“Maybe he’s scared about how he feels about you?”  

“Why would he be scared?”

“Because admitting you love someone makes you vulnerable to them.” For some absurd reason an image of Zayn flashed in his mind. Liam chased it away and continued speaking. “You grant them with the opportunity to break your heart and no one likes having their heart broken.”

Harry rolled onto his side, a contemplative expression on his face. “I’ve never thought about it that way.” He glanced at the picture of Louis on his nightstand. “Louis is so outgoing I can’t ever imagine him being scared.” He sighed. “I sort of thought he wanted me to sleep with other people because I wasn’t experienced enough. When I mentioned meeting you he seemed really eager for me to go out with you.”

“I think you need to tell him how you really feel. Because I don’t think either you will be happy in the long run if you continue to do this.”

Harry smiled at him. He raised a hand to brush Liam’s cheek. “Why do you have to go and be all gentlemanly and talk some sense into me? Why couldn’t you’ve just sleep with me?”

Liam pulled Harry’s hand from his cheek, placed a kiss on his palm and pulled him close to his chest. “Because I like you too much.”

#### Part 2 – Zayn

The next morning he was awoken by someone knocking loudly on his door. Liam stumbled out of bed in his joggers, figuring it was Louis wanting details on how his date with Harry went last night. He opened the door and the person standing there was _definitely not_ Louis.

“Good morning,” Zayn let himself in, pulling his overnight suitcase with him. Liam self-consciously pulled up his joggers, aware they hung indecently low on his hips.

“I thought I was picking you up at your flat,” Liam closed the door. Zayn stood in the middle of his living room, looking around.

 “I saved you the drive. It makes economic sense for me to meet you here since you live closer to the airport.” He sat down on the couch. “Sorry about the rude awakening.” He did a slow up and down sweep of Liam and Liam fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest.

“I need to shower. Coffee’s right over there.” The shower Liam took was record quick and he shaved, dressed, and packed his suitcase in no time. But despite his efforts, the worst still happened; he found Zayn and Louis seated at the kitchen counter, talking.

He paused in the hallway, watching in horror.

Louis spotted him. “The laddie has finished his shower.”

“That was quick,” Zayn said. “Louis was about to make pancakes.”

Liam glared at Louis. “There’s no need. We have to get going. The flight-”

“Is in four hours. We’ve more than enough time to catch it,” Zayn interrupted. Louis got up from the stool and began to rummage through Liam’s drawers. Liam left his suitcase by the couch and took an awkward seat at the kitchen counter.  

“How did it go last night?” Louis asked as he started mixing ingredients in a bowl.  This was hardly the time to discuss Liam’s date with Harry. Instead of giving a proper response, Liam grunted. “That good, huh?” Louis then proceeded to stage whisper to Zayn. “Liam had his first date in _ages_ last night.”

“Zayn doesn’t want to hear this.”

Zayn smirked. “That’s not true. Go on, Louis.”

“The date must have gone well because Liam only stumbled home in the wee hours of this morning,” Louis continued.

“Nothing happened. I went to his, we snogged a bit, and listened to some music.” Liam responded pointedly to Louis. The last thing he wanted was for Louis to think he had slept with Harry. Even if he had his ‘approval’, it didn’t feel right.

“Liam never puts out on the first date,” Louis said, matter-a-factually. He poured pancake batter onto a sauce pan. “What about you, Zayn? Is there anyone special in your life?”

“I’m single.”

“If you’re looking for that special someone, let me know. In fact, I set up Liam with his date last night. I’m a bit of what they call a ‘matchmaker’.”

Liam snorted. “Since when?”

“I’ll keep you in mind,” Zayn said.

Louis finished preparing the pancakes, serving them up with some of the syrup. After they ate Louis insisted on driving them to the airport in his beat up Toyota Corrolla.

#### ***

Saturday evening they gave the Blackwell Board of Directors the presentation and stayed for tête-à-tête with the Board before checking into the upscale hotel D&H had booked for them. Liam wasn’t expecting to do more than to order room service and watch some telly until he fell asleep.

“Do you want to go for dinner?” Zayn asked as he pressed the lift button.

“I was planning on ordering in.”

“This hotel has a great restaurant, be a shame not to try it out.” Zayn stepped into the lift, Liam followed after him. “Especially when D&H are footing the bill.”

“Sure, why not.” The lift pinged and the doors opened on their floor. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”

Liam unlocked his hotel room, left his laptop bag on the bed and entered the bathroom to check his appearance. He looked good, if he did say so himself. He sprayed on some cologne, grabbed his wallet and mobile before he left the room to wait for Zayn in the hotel corridor. A minutes later, Zayn’s room door opened and he nodded at Liam. They walked to the elevator, Liam all too aware of the scent of Zayn’s cologne, sharp and fresh, wafting up to him.

“I think we did fairly well.” Zayn said as they waited for a lift.

“If Fred gets the BT Technologies account, he mustn’t forget who helped him land it.” Not that Liam had much hope on that happening. Fred didn’t dish out recognition and ‘attaboys’ easily. The lift pinged opened and they stepped inside it.

“Fred doesn’t strike me as the type of man who gives credit to his minions.”

“We need to make sure he doesn’t forget to remember our contribution next time there’s a partner’s meeting.”

Zayn glanced at him, eyebrows up. “How exactly?”

Liam smiled. “I’ll think of something.”

They arrived on the ground floor and walked out of the lift through the main lounge area of the hotel and into the restaurant where the maître guided them to a table. A smiling waitress approached their table, introduced herself, handed them menus, and asked for their drink orders. Liam ordered beer and Zayn ordered some posh sounding red wine blend.

“She thinks we’re on a date,” Zayn observed when the waitress, Gwen, walked away.

“What gives you that impression?” Liam asked. Zayn sat back on his chair, an easy smile on his lips, and it hit Liam like a ton of bricks. Zayn was so fucking beautiful. His eyes, dark and hooded, his lips pink, his cheekbones… Liam looked down before he began to stare, pretending to read through the restaurant’s menu.

“Firstly, she didn’t flirt with me.”

“She’s at work. Maybe she’s, you know, working.”

“Waitresses always flirt with me. I’m not sure why.” Liam rolled his eyes. Zayn knew exactly why. He owned a mirror. “Secondly, we’re sitting in a love seat, no wedding bands in sight, in a restaurant full of couples.”

Liam glanced around. Zayn was right - every table of two he spotted consisted of couples. “Two dates back to back. I’m on a winning streak.”

Gwen the waitress came back and placed their drinks on the table, smiling at Zayn and barely glancing at Liam. She took their food orders and walked away. Liam picked up his beer.

Zayn cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to ignore you afterwards.”

Liam tensed. Really? Zayn wanted to do this _now_? He sat back on his chair, crossing his arms. “You don’t owe me an explanation. It’s ancient history.”

“Things feel strained between us and I know it’s because of that night.”

“We almost had sex. We’re adults, it doesn’t need to mean more than that.”

“It feels like it did.”

“Wow. Just wow.” Liam huffed out a breath. “Zayn, I haven’t been secretly yearning for you. In fact, I hardly thought of you until you moved back. If you feel any ‘strain’, it’s from your gigantic ego sucking up all the oxygen in the room.”

Zayn was looking at him, his dark eyes unreadable. “Why don’t you like me?”

“You’ve never given me a reason to.”

“Back in high school, I offered you my friendship, but you wouldn’t have it. It’s like you’re always looking for proof that I’m this dreadful person.”

Liam unfolded his arms and reached for his beer. He took a sip then spoke. “I never had to look. The reasons have always been blatantly apparent.”

“And they are?” Zayn asked.

“Well let me see, making fun of me when I tripped in front of the class on my first day of school,” Liam began, “you didn’t pick me for the teachers versus student golf friendly match. You never actually spoke to me unless you needed something. Oh, and the fact we fooled around after the uni graduation party and you made a point of ignoring me when I saw you on campus afterwards. That’s just from the top of my head. I’m sure if we continued I could find another fifty reasons.”

“Fair enough, but surely you can’t hold things that happened _ages_ ago against me. You said it, we’re adults. Can we start over?”

Liam sighed. “Why did you move back here?”

“I realised the London firm wasn’t a good fit,” Zayn said. “It’s not because I have some master plan to ruin your life.” Liam was about to respond when Gwen brought their orders. Steak fillet served with potato wedges and a green salad for him, Chicken piccata with angel hair pasta for Zayn.

“As long as you promise to remain upfront with me, I think we might manage to work through our differences,” Liam picked his knife and cut up his steak.

“If we’re going to be an effective team, you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“How about this - I’ll bury the hatchet and wipe your slate clean.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

Zayn smiled. “You won’t regret it.”

#### ***

Zayn was quiet on the way up, the jazzy elevator music the only sound breaking the heavy silence. The lift walls were made of glass and through them, Liam could see the glittering lights of the city and the yellow and red tailed vehicles driving along the street. He turned around, leaning against the glass, watching the various floor numbers light up as the lift ascended. The lift reached their floor and pinged open and they disembarked. Liam turned to wish Zayn goodnight, his words getting lost in the back of his throat when he saw the _look_ in Zayn’s eyes. He could have stopped it then, walked in the opposite direction and towards his room, but he didn’t. He allowed himself to be shoved hard against the wall and for Zayn to place his hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss.

Zayn’s lips were warm, his mouth wet, and his scent familiar. The hands on Liam’s face gentle, the press of his lips urgent, his tongue searching, entering Liam’s mouth, and his teeth nipping at Liam’s lips. Liam let himself be kissed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, not engaging with anything more than his mouth, allowing this, whatever it was, to be Zayn’s show. Zayn grew still, moving his hands away from Liam’s face and running them through Liam’s hair before he pulled back.  He turned away, wiping at his mouth.

“This is a bad idea,” Liam spoke to Zayn’s back. He watched the slim set of shoulder’s stiffen.

“I know,” Zayn didn’t turn to look at Liam. He walked away. “Good night, Liam.” He swiped his card and entered his room, leaving Liam in the hallway, slightly out of breath and bewilderingly aroused.

#### ***

Louis picked them up from Heathrow the next morning and spent the entire duration of the drive singing obnoxiously along to Green Day. Liam sat in the front next to him with Zayn in the back. Every now and again he happened to look in the rear view mirror and caught a glimpse of Zayn. He startled when he met Zayn’s eyes and his face flushed, probably turning an unattractive ruddy red as he recalled the kiss they had shared the previous night.

Even as his mind shouted for him not to, he had kissed Zayn and the only thought running through his mind was that _he felt exactly the same_. Several years had lapsed and the flushed heat of Zayn’s body against him felt exactly like he had that night when they had found themselves in the back of Liam’s car with their tongues in each other’s mouths and their hands down each other’s trousers. They still had on their graduation gowns, the black material shoved aside in the rush to access each other’s cocks. Liam’s car had been parked behind the main hall, just far enough away they couldn’t be easily seen. The streetlight under which he was parked was broken, so there was barely any light, which made him much bolder than he would have been if Zayn could see him. They had fooled around, jerking each other off until they both came, then they adjusted their clothes and Liam had driven Zayn to the after party.

He shouldn’t have kissed Zayn last night, not when he had finally archived the events of graduation night in the far most corners of his mind. The kiss had stirred too much in him; things he didn’t want to recall or feel. They dropped Zayn outside the fancy flat complex he called home and as soon as Zayn closed the boot and walked away, Louis lowered the volume and turned to Liam.

 “You guys fucked last night.”

Liam glared at him.  “We didn’t.”

Louis appraised him for a moment before putting the car into first gear and pulling out into the street. “Well, _something_ happened.”

“We may have kissed.”

“One week in and you’re already giving it up. I knew there was a slut in you somewhere.”

“It won’t happen again. It was a mistake.”

“Like the time you groped each other in your car? That kind of mistake?”

“Poor judgement on my part. I’m older and wiser and I know Zayn Malik’s bad news.”

“He’s gorgeous. Those eyelashes and cheekbones-” Liam gave Louis’ arm a light slap. “What? I speak no lies.”

“You have a boyfriend. Curly haired, tall, and ridiculously in love with you, remember?”

“The same boyfriend you snogged two nights ago?”

“Hey, you asked me to!” Liam retorted. “I did advise him to demand a strictly monogamous relationship from you. I’m pretty sure he’s bi, with a stronger lean towards men. I mean, there’s this girl he’s living with, Petunia or something, and she is crazily in love with him and he’s barely noticed. I’m pretty sure there’s an effigy of you with pin pricks somewhere in her room.”

“She gave you the death glare.” Louis turned into their street. “I thought that look was strictly reserved for me.”

“Oh, she gave it and then some.”

“Harry doesn’t even see how she’s only nice when he’s involved. He thinks she hangs the moon the way he goes on about her,” Louis grumbled. Then it dawned on Liam.

“I see. So it’s not Harry dumping you for some random girl, it’s her you’re worried about.”

“Louis Tomlinson doesn’t get jealous of pint sized blondes who wear too much make-up and false eyelashes.”

“He doesn’t until he falls for cute vet students,” Liam concluded. “Be honest with him and tell him you were scared before. The only reason he went out with me in the first place is because you practically shoved him into my arms. He’s far too sweet to be toyed with.” Louis parked the car and once it was stationary, he turned to Liam.

“I like him. Like a lot,” Louis’ blue eyes were earnest in a way Liam associated with him being sincere about his feelings. In moments like these, Liam had learned the best course of action was to listen. “The last time I felt like this, things ended horridly and it was brutal. Now, with Harry, things have been so effortless. Too good to last, so I guess I’ve been looking for reasons for why I shouldn’t throw myself into it.”

“I can’t say that you and Harry will be forever,” Liam reached for Louis’ hand to squeeze it gently. “But in the time I’ve known you, I have never seen you come so alive when you talk about someone. I think you share something that most people could only dream about. So, I’m going to get my stuff out of the boot, and you’re going to drive to your boy’s house and tell him how you really feel. Okay?”

“Okay,” Louis replied.

Liam got out the car, retrieved his overnight bag, and watched Louis drive away.

#### Part 3 - Niall

Liam changed into a pair of running shorts, pulled on his trainers and white Adidas t-shirt, grabbed his iPod and locked his flat. It was after noon on Sunday and the weather was perfect for a quick run.

He was running on the pathway of the nearby park, Kanye West crammed up on full-blast, his legs burning deliciously. When he turned around the bend, something hit him so hard he was propelled off his feet, rolling down the hill to land on his side in a nearby ditch. Kanye did not miss a beat – _I am a God so hurry up with my damn massage_ , he rapped on. Liam opened his eyes, looking up into the clear blue sky while he tried to assess if he was seriously injured. He knew people were advised not to move in situations like these but he couldn’t exactly lay in the ditch waiting for help to come. He wiggled his arm. It ached a bit, but it didn’t feel broken. He kicked out his legs.

“Don’t move,” he heard a voice say. He felt his headphones being pulled away from his ears, then a pair of familiar eyes were peering down at him with dark-blond eyebrows deeply furrowed. _Niall._

“I’ve bumped into you once again,” Niall pressed fingers onto Liam’s arm. Ouch. “You felt that, good.” He repeated the process on Liam’s legs before he held out his hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Liam peered at them. “Um, three.”

“Good.” Niall helped Liam to his feet carefully and dusted at Liam’s legs, folding the headphone strings before passing them back to Liam. “You’ve skinned your elbow.”

Liam pocketed the earphones before twisting his arm around to peer at the injury. His elbow was covered in sand and blood. The way it looked, the injury should have hurt more, but it didn’t. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it when I get home.”

“Normally it’s cars I’m looking out for when I cycle, not people,” Niall said. “I feel like I owe you more than a free phone repair this time.”

“It really is okay,” Liam reassured him. “I don’t think you’re some mad man who serially bumps people.”

“I’m not.” They walked up the ditch to the path where Niall had left his bike. “Do you like football?” Niall asked.

“Yeah, who doesn’t?”

“My mate’s team is playing and I promised I’d come watch. Wanna come with?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah,” Niall said, “unless you have somewhere to be.”

“No.” After the run Liam had been planning to do some work and check in with Louis if he wanted to watch some old crappy action films. A live football match seemed more interesting.  “I’d love to.”

#### ***

The sun had moved further up in the sky and the day had grown warmer. The park was teaming full with people; joggers, mum’s pushing prams, and children playing on the jungle gyms. Niall pushed his bike along the path as Liam walked beside him.

“Have you considered joining my cycling class?” Niall asked.

Liam glanced at him. “The timing is a bit awkward because I finish work at five and by the time I get to the gym, your class is almost over.”

“They say better late than never,” Niall frowned as he looked over at Liam, who was grimacing at the sharp pain running up his arm. ““We need to get your arm cleaned up.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“At the moment it’s fine, but I imagine if we don’t disinfect it, you’ll probably be at risk for getting an infection.”

They exited the park entrance and took Caden road. Niall was right. With Liam’s luck, the scratch on his arm would probably fester into something horrid. He’d have to take time off from work and Zayn would take over the rest of his clients and get his promotion. Well, Liam wasn’t going to make things easy for him, not when Zayn was playing dirty. What the hell had that kiss been about? Was Zayn trying to pick up where they left things a couple of years back? Or was it all part of his nefarious plan to completely and utterly fuck up Liam’s life? Liam shook his head. He wasn’t going to think about it. As far as he was concerned, Zayn had initiated things. Liam hadn’t been the one to cross work placed boundaries.

“This is me,” Niall said while he pushed his bike through a gate of a small house. They walked up the path in front of the house and Niall pulled out a key from his cycling tights opening up the door. Liam followed in after him.

“You live by yourself?” Liam looked around as he walked into the living room. There was an assortment of sports trophies and ribbons displayed and a large gaming centre set up in front of a well-used couch. Scattered about were trainers, vests, and snapbacks, making the room scream of infrequent housekeeping.

“Yeah.” Niall grabbed a towel from a couch and wiped at his face before throwing it over his shoulders. “My parents live in Ireland and my brother lives in the next town with his wife and son.”

Liam walked over to the entertainment unit and picked up one of the trophies displayed. Irish National Road Race Championship, second runner up 2012. “You cycled professionally?” he asked. Of course he already knew this from googling Niall, but there was no way of letting his knowledge be known without coming across as a stalker. Niall walked over to stand beside him, looking at the trophy.

“Cycling professionally was all I ever wanted to do. I still feel incredulous that I got as far as I did with it.” Niall stood so close Liam could smell him; fresh sweat with the clean, oceanic scent of whatever deodorant he used. Liam returned the trophy to its place turning it around so the inscription faced outward. “I’ll go grab my first aid kit. Please take a seat.”

Liam sat down on the couch when Niall left the room. The place was much bigger than his flat. Niall’s living room looked like it could easily fit his own living room, kitchen, _and_ loo. He had reached a stage in his life where he started looking into buying property because that’s what grown-up, financial secure people did, but when he started the process of looking at a place, he immediately felt out of sorts. He wasn’t ready to take on the burden of a home loan, property taxes and rates. Niall walked in carrying a red and black medic-kit. He sat on the table in front of Liam, put on clear gloves, and leaned forward to pick up Liam’s arm.

“It doesn’t look like it’ll need stitches.” Niall swabbed the area with disinfectant before covering the scratch with a band-aid from the kit. “There - all done.”

Liam twisted his arm around to inspect his elbow. “Thanks, Niall.”

“You’re welcome.” Niall was seated close enough for Liam to close the space between them by leaning slightly and placing a kiss on Niall’s lips before pulling away to look into Niall’s eyes.

“I hope I’m not reading the situation wrong.” Their faces were so close Liam could see the grey specks in Niall’s eyes and his dilated black irises. He could see the beginnings of stubble over his upper lip and how Niall’s lips were a dark, raspberry pink, wet and plump from their kiss. Liam raised his hand and ran it through Niall’s hair before placing it behind Niall’s head and pulling him into another kiss. Niall tasted of a zesty orange flavoured sports drink. Liam licked into his mouth, licking away the artificial taste. He ran his hands through Niall’s hair before placing the other on Niall’s arm, feeling the strong, sinewy skin of his bicep flex when he did. Niall pulled back, his cheeks flushed a pleasant raspberry pink.

“This is not the reason why I invited you over.” Niall leaned down to kiss Liam, pressing his lips firmly and chastely over Liam’s before pulling back once more.

Liam smirked at him. “I know, but you looked so cute tending to my arm. There was no way I couldn’t.”

Niall’s face broke out into a wide smile as he rose up. He offered Liam a hand. “The game starts in,” he glanced at his wrist watch. “Forty minutes. I need to change into something else and then we’ll be out.” He assessed Liam. “I have a football jersey you could wear. You’ve got blood on your T-shirt.”

Liam looked down and sure enough, on the side of his T-shirt was a red stain. “I’d appreciate that.”

Niall left the room and returned, having changed into a baggy, oversized football vest. He handed Liam a similar one. Liam pulled off his shirt, aware of Niall’s eyes on him before he slowly put on Niall’s vest.

 It fit perfectly.

#### ***

Outside the venue were groups of people standing around, donned to the teeth in the local team colours. The ticket queue was long, snaking from the office and reaching the parking lot. A few officials walked about, notifying people in the queue drinks purchased outside of the venue would not be allowed in. When they reached the ticket office, Niall insisted he cover the costs since he was the one who had invited Liam. Then, tickets in hand, they walked into the arena to watch the game. Their seats were a few from the field, something Liam found could be dangerous when a football whizzed close to his head, minutes after kick-off.

“Close call,” Liam looked behind him watching a group of men fight over the ball.

“What can I say? People love their football,” Niall replied. “I should’ve warned you that sometimes these games become a bit intense.”

A security guard came over and pulled the men, now bloodied and bruised, apart. The ball was thrown back onto the field.

“I’d say they get a _lot_ intense.”

“Do you want a lager?” Niall asked, getting to his feet.

“Sure.” Liam watched Niall squeeze his way through the stands. He may have lied to Niall; he wasn’t the biggest football enthusiast. His dad loved the game and when it became apparent Liam was utterly rubbish at it, he’d tried to downplay his disappointment. Sometimes Liam wished he’d spent less time on academics and more time playing sports - maybe that would have improved his relationship with his father. He spotted Niall coming back, two beers in one hand, and two hotdogs in the other. He made his way through the crowd before he carefully handed Liam the one beer and hotdog.

“Thanks.” Liam took a swig of the beer while Niall sat down.

“I didn’t miss anything, did I?” Niall asked as he peered out onto the field.

“Um, number 12, tackled the other team’s striker and the referee gave him a yellow card.”

Niall nodded. “That’s Travis O’Donnell. He’s aggressive and pretty much a waste of space.” He got to his feet. “Travis, go back to playing for Westham, you’re useless!” He sat back down and smiled at Liam. “I guess I didn’t strike you as a football hooligan.”

“It’s all right. It’s nice to know behind the charming smile there’s a bit of a bad boy.”

Niall laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me a bad boy.”

“What do people normally call you?”

“Cute, likeable, charming.” Niall listed the adjectives off on his left hand. “You know, the take home to meet your mum sort.”

Liam reached out a hand and cupped Niall’s face. “I can see it.” He pulled Niall close and kissed him, slow and lingering. The crowd yelled and everyone around them were jumping to their feet, their hollering and cheering so loud, the stadium seats vibrated. Niall ended the kiss and stood.

“We scored!” Niall raised his arms above his head. “Whoo!” He reached out to pull Liam to his feet, Liam’s beer spilling from the plastic cup rim in the process. Liam allowed himself to be pulled up and put his arm around Niall. “I think I should bring you to every game. You’re like my team’s lucky charm.” Niall kissed Liam again before he resumed cheering along with the crowd.

#### ***

They stumbled down the street, their arms around each other. The world was spinny and Niall was leaning against him, telling him dirty jokes, and this was probably the most fun he’d had in a long time. They walked past a group of men who were singing football songs. Niall stopped, joining in before Liam pulled him along, ending his impromptu karaoke session.

“You’re cute,” Niall slurred, tugging at Liam’s borrowed football jersey.

“So are you.” Liam observed. “And drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” He let go of Liam and took a step, swaying slightly. He reached for Liam again. “Okay, maybe I am.” He looked around. “We’re close to my house so we go left on the next street.” He leaned into Liam when they began to walk again, the sounds of the football crowds growing fainter.

It was starting to get dark. Normally this time on a Sunday, Liam would have had his laptop out, going over the work he needed to complete for the upcoming week. Louis would come over, and they would order takeout and watch dreadful 80s action films. He felt like he was taking a weird departure from his normal life.

They took a left and Liam spotted Niall’s house further up. When they got to the door, he fished through Niall’s pockets and pulled out the key, unlocking the door and letting them in. He settled Niall carefully onto the sofa before he sat down beside him. He was too buzzed to even begin to think about going home. His flat was about eight kilometres from here. Easy to run in the morning when he was hyped, but the thought of trying to get there made him tired. He’d have to call Louis to pick him up. He reached into the pocket for his cell phone pants, but was stopped when Niall gripped his arm.

“Please stay,” Niall pleaded, peering up at Liam through his lashes.

Liam gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t think either of us are in the condition to be making that type of decision.”

Niall shook his head. “Not for sex. Just stay.”

“Okay,” Liam relaxed against Niall.

“They used to call me the Irish Lance Armstrong,” Niall’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Before the steroid scandal and he was still Lance Armstrong. I came so close to having this amazing life and then my knee gets buggered and everything was taken away. I’m twenty-six and feel like a has-been failure.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

Liam pulled away to look at him. “That’s the beer talking. Twenty-six is young. Just because you won’t win some stupid races, doesn’t mean you can’t achieve other things in life. Like look at your cycling class; you’re the best instructor they have.”

“You haven’t even been to one.”

“I may have googled you, after we met.”

“And I may have bumped into you on purpose this morning,” Niall’s cheeks coloured. “I didn’t mean to hit you as hard as I did. I didn’t know how to approach you. I’m not great at the whole dating thing.” He covered his face and groaned. “Oh God, we haven’t even been on a proper date and I’ve already blabbed about my failed life goals.”

Liam pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “It’s okay. I liked it when you bumped into me.”

Niall dropped his hands. “You’re not just saying this to placate me and run away as soon as I fall asleep?”

“No, I’m being serious. I had more fun with you today than I have had in a long, long time.” Liam’s voice was firm. “I’d like to see you again.”

Niall smiled and kissed him.


	10. Walk of shame

 “Liam, you slag,” Louis sing-songed the next morning as Liam was about to successfully enter his flat unseen. He had a feeling that Louis had been waiting for him probably since five AM, just to say his one-liner and make walk of shame jokes. Liam unlocked his door and didn’t bother closing it behind himself because he knew Louis would follow after him. “Who’s the lucky lad keeping you up way past your Sunday night curfew?” Louis asked as he breezed into his flat.

“You don’t know him.” Liam put the kettle on. He would first have some coffee, then shower.

“He already has you in his football jersey.” Louis approached him and inspected the jersey. “Horan 13. Nice.”

Liam tugged at the material and looked at the printed text. He hadn’t even noticed the jersey had Niall’s name on it. He shrugged and took out two mugs from the cupboard.

“Who’s this Horan fellow?” Louis sat down on one of the stools by the kitchen counter.

“Someone I happen to like very much and hope he never meets you, otherwise he’ll go running to the hills.”

“I’m one of the perks that come with dating Liam Payne,” Louis said. “That and your big dick.”

“Oh god, you’re never, ever meeting Niall.”

Louis pulled out his iPhone. “Thanks for the first name.” He typed quickly and cooed. “Oh, he’s a good looking one. And an athlete.” He put his phone away. “I approve.”

Liam gaped at him. “You do know that you have no say on who I date.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “That’s what I want you to think.” He leaned across the counter. “Enough of the chitter chatter. How was the sex?’

“We didn’t have sex.”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t have sex?”

“Yes.” Liam put two spoons of coffee granules into the mugs. “And this is the third person you’ve accused me of sleeping with this weekend.”

“You have been a busy and naughty lad so what other conclusions must I draw when you stumble home in clothes that clearly don’t belong to you? That thing you were saying- the not having sex, please clarify.”

Liam shrugged. “We were slightly inebriated. We chatted, cuddled a bit, fell asleep and he dropped me off this morning. No sex.”

“Cuddled? What is it you speak of?”

Liam poured hot water into the mugs and passed one over to Louis. He took a sip. “I need to shower and get ready for work.”

“Ohhh, you gonna get to see Zayn.” Louis made kissing noises.

Liam threw a teaspoon at Louis and left the room before his regression into a primary schooler was fully complete.


	11. A question about a kiss Part 1

Fred’s lips moved, but Liam wasn’t listening. They sat in the board room, Liam and Carver on one side of the long wooden table, Fred and Zayn on the other. Fred was giving a long spiel about his golfing trip this past weekend and all Liam could see was Zayn. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble he’d been harbouring yesterday morning had become a beard. The dark hair nicely offset his lips. His plump, pink lips. Lips Zayn liked to lick constantly. Had his lips always been like that? They looked soft. Liam wanted to press his thumb to them to see how they felt. He’d like to dip his tongue on the crevice on the bottom one-

“-if I’m not mistaken, Mr Payne?” Fred asked. Liam blinked and Zayn, along with Fred and Carver, was staring at him.

“Uh-” Liam began, trying to rack his brain as to what Fred was on about. Last time he’d checked in, he’d been discussing his caddie before Zayn had licked his lips and distracted him. “I think, I mean, it’s, uh-”

“We’re not aware of any dilution of shares. Marcus Rhys’ shareholding should still be 3%,” Zayn flicked through the Annual Report he had brought with him to the meeting. “Which makes him the largest sole shareholder after Blackwell, so you’re not mistaken.”

Fred nodded. “I want this client to receive the five star treatment. You two are putting one-hundred and fifty percent into this engagement.” He raised his bushy eyebrows. “Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Liam said.

“Perfectly clear,” Zayn added.

“That will be all.” Fred and Carver rose to their feet, already talking about some Oxford Old Boys gala event they would be attending this Friday. Liam got up, picked up his laptop, and walked toward the door. Zayn followed after him and when they got to his office, he shut the door loudly behind them.

“The kiss was a mistake, I admit that,” Zayn eyes blazed. “But we’re at work and to ensure that this account is run successfully, we need to talk. What’s with the silent treatment?”

Liam sat down at his desk and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”

“You’ve been ignoring me the entire day.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about all of that before you kissed me.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry.” Zayn sat down on his desk and jabbed violently at the keypads of his laptop. “I feel like I’m always apologising to you.”

Liam logged onto his emails and asked quietly, “Why’d you do it? Kiss me, that is.” Silence stretched out in the room. He could hear the faint sounds of their co-workers on the other side of the closed door. Zayn wasn’t typing anymore and when Liam looked up he found Zayn staring at him. “Who’s giving who the silent treatment now?”

“The kiss shouldn’t have happened.”

“We’ve established that,” Liam replied curtly, holding Zayn’s gaze. “But _why_ did it?”

“I was curious.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“And?”

“Let’s just say I was wrong.” Zayn looked away and began to type. Liam scrolled through his emails. There was nothing urgent he needed to respond to. He closed Outlook and pulled up the Blackwell engagement, beginning to review the results of the prior year audit.

#### ***

After work, Louis was busy, so Liam stayed in. He cooked pasta and mince for supper. Mid-meal, a new text arrived from Niall.

“ _Enjoyed our date yesterday_ ,” the text read.

“ _U want a repeat?”_ Liam typed back. He waited. Soon his phone buzzed and he placed his fork on the plate to read the text.

“ _How’s Friday_?” Niall texted.

“ _Sounds good_.”

“ _Arm doing ok_?”  

Liam flexed his arm. It was tender now and then, but it felt like it was healing fine. He texted, “ _It’s betta. Ur quite the nursemaid_.”

 “ _Very funny, ha ha_.” Then, “ _gotta go. I’ll text u 2morrow_.”

Liam texted his goodbye and settled on the couch to watch Monday night telly.


	12. A question about a kiss Part 2

Tuesday evening, he arrived home to find Louis cooking in his flat. He set his laptop bag down, took his jacket off, and loosened his tie.

“I knew giving you a copy of my keys was going to be a bad idea in the long run,” Liam opened the fridge and pulled out two beers, cracking his open and setting one beside the stove where Louis stood, stirring frantically. Liam peered in the pot – it looked like chicken curry.

“Harry’s coming over for our anniversary supper and my stove decided to stop working,” Louis reduced the heat and rummaged in Liam’s kitchen cabinets. “Where do you keep your chili powder?”

“I don’t have any,” Liam replied. Louis gaped at him. “I hardly ever cook. You know that.”

“Fine, I’ll go get some from mine. Watch the curry.” Louis left and Liam picked up the spoon and tasted. It was actually good. A few moments later, Louis came back.

“Do you need any help?” Liam asked as he watched Louis measure some chili powder on a teaspoon.

“Nah, I’m all set up.” Louis sprinkled what he had measured into the pot before stirring.

“How are things with Harry?” Liam sat down on one of the stools.

“We talked and I told him how I’ve struggled with relationships in the past and the whole open relationship was a way to stop us from getting too close,” Louis said. “So we’re starting afresh and will be exclusive from now on.” He placed the spoon aside and sighed. “Which means I have to come clean to him about you.”

“You’re telling him tonight?”

Louis nodded grimly. “If we want to make things work, we can’t be keeping secrets. Plus, you’re my best friend and sooner or later you and Harry are going to bump into each other and I rather he finds out from me. Do you think he’ll be upset?”

“Maybe,” Liam shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you since he adores you.”

Louis picked his beer and sipped at it. “Enough about me. How was work?”

“The usual: statutory accounting, deadlines, balance sheets, and income statements. Boring.”

“And Zayn?”

“He’s getting his own office.”

“Too bad. I liked the idea of you and him trapped in your small office while navigating the trenches of your big, epic unresolved sexual tension.”

“He brought up the kiss.”

“Really? What’d he say?”

Liam mimicked Zayn’s accent. “ _I was curious_.”

Louis nodded as if that made all the sense. “He wants back on your dick.”

“He was never on my dick.”

“Exactly. He’s curious as to what he’s been missing out on all these years. Maybe all through uni he heard the rumours about Big Payno and he wanted to get personally acquitted.” Louis became animated. “So he finally did, on grad night, but then he was intimidated by your generous, uh, _stature_ and has spent the past two years regretting not going through with it, so he finally mustered his courage and he came back to be rough and tumbled by you, once and for all.” He gasped a breath.

“God Louis, your head has been hit on too many headboards.”

“But never yours. Ha! But, all jokes aside, I think Zayn fancies you.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Liam responded. Louis didn’t know all the days he’d spent in high school being ridiculed by Zayn’s friends and Zayn never, ever coming to his aid. He didn’t know about his sixteenth birthday party, when he had invited his entire class, and Zayn had decided to throw an end of summer bash on the exact day, ensuring no one would go to Liam’s party. Louis didn’t know about how he’d cried in his room the entire day and how he had been absent the following week because he was too embarrassed to show his face at school.

“Maybe _you_ don’t know him.”

Liam remembered the hot press of Zayn’s lips against his. He also remembered the week after graduation, when he’d been collecting his grad photos, and he’d seen Zayn walking down the corridor. Zayn had seen him, stopped dead in his tracks, and immediately turned and walked in the opposite direction. It still made Liam’s face _burn_. No one had ever made him feel like a piece of shit more than Zayn Malik. He had been an experiment. Everybody fooled around in uni and once Zayn had ticked the ‘obligatory university gay experience’ check box, that had been enough for Zayn. Maybe the kiss on Saturday was to fulfil his ‘fuck a co-worker’ box. Maybe it was a way for him to fuck with Liam’s mind. Zayn did things and Liam endured them. Always had. It wasn’t fucking fair.

“I know he’s selfish, conceited and manipulative,” Liam said. “And if his good looks and well-constructed charm fool you, then that’s on you.”

Louis raised his hands, palms faced outward. “Okay, I give up. You hate Zayn.” He turned the stove off and put on baking gloves. “Please assist me in carrying this lovely curry back to my flat by opening the doors for me.”

Liam got up, opened his door, and once Louis was through, he opened Louis’ flat door for him. He returned to his own flat and when he smelt the lingering delicious scent of the curry, he regretted not having Louis dish up some for him. He opened his refrigerator and peered in. There were several takeaway containers from the last time he and Louis had ordered out. He opened one of them and was hit full flagrante with the scent of decaying food. He disposed the container. He checked the freezer compartment and found a frozen pizza he had bought a few days ago. He chucked it into the oven and set the timer. While he waited, he booted up his laptop and began browsing through the parent accounts he’d started reviewing for Blackwell. There was an account in Blackwell’s profit and loss sub-ledger for over a hundred-thousand pounds he had no idea what it related to. It was innocuously titled ‘Sundry Income’. He’d received an extract of the account from Pastel and after inspecting the transactions line-by-line, he’d noted the hundred thousand consisted of monthly receipts from an offshore bank. Every fortnight, money was received. He highlighted it in yellow and typed two question marks. He would need to check with Blackwell’s financial manager what the amount related to. There was no way it was going into the P&L note as a sundry item. With that done, he pulled his frozen pizza out the oven and sat down in front of the telly to eat his supper.


	13. In for a penny…

“Take a look at this account,” Liam announced as he walked into Zayn’s new office. It was the corner one, two doors down from Fred’s. Liam may or may have not assumed it would be his when he made partner and he may have already furnished it in his mind. Not that Zayn hadn’t done a good job. The art on the walls was understated and stylish. The Persian rug in the centre of the room lent just the right amount of colour. The chairs were leather and new, the hinges squeaking when Zayn rotated his chair around Bond villain style and smiled at Liam.

“Good morning, Liam.”

Liam pulled the visitor chair back and sat down. “Yeah, morning. I’ve spent the last couple of days going through the income sub-ledgers for Blackwell. Have you seen this?” He handed Zayn the print of the sub-ledger. “Does the cash flow strike you as peculiar?”

Zayn browsed through the pages. “We’d need to get a review of the income statement from the auditors.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Liam presented him with the prints of the auditors’ working papers for the P&L sub-ledgers. “They did transactional testing and concluded that the income was ‘in line with accepted business practises’.”

“You think the conclusion was incorrect?”

“We don’t have any assurance over what this is, let alone where it should be presented.” Liam handed Zayn the last page where he had highlighted the receipts from Wagner Industries, a foreign entity, which was supposed to be dormant according to all the searches Liam had conducted.

Zayn stared at the page, eyebrows furrowing. “We’re accountants, not auditors.” He paged through the accounts. “I’ll take care of this.”

“If you were doing your job properly, you would have picked this up. So please forgive me if I’m sceptical of you being able to _take care_ of anything.”

“We have to be a 110 percent certain before we take this to Fred,” Zayn said. He set the pages aside and started typing on his laptop. “In the meantime, we keep our suspicions off the book.” He read through something on his laptop. “We still have some time before the statutory deadline. Do you have any plans for tonight?”

What did that have to do with anything? “Uh, I have a date.”

“Cancel it,” Zayn said while typing on the computer.

“Excuse me?”

“Cancel it. We’re working on the Blackwell account this evening.” Zayn looked up at Liam. “If this is what we think it is, we need to get on it immediately.”

“Can’t we do it tomorrow?” Liam asked. He’d been looking forward to his date with Niall the entire week.

“The sooner we get to the heart of whatever creative accounting window-dressing fuckery that Blackwell’s doing, the better. A fortnight is not a whole lot of time.”

“Fine,” Liam spat. He should have kept what he found to himself until Monday, but then he would have been contravening the IFAC code or some ethics doctrine. “I’ll cancel.”

Zayn cleared his throat. “So my flat after work?”

“Sounds like a date.” Liam picked up the files and left Zayn’s office, slamming the door a little bit too hard.

#### ***

In his office he immediately dialled Niall.

“Hey, Liam,” Niall said brightly when he answered.

“Hi, Niall.” Liam’s voice was hesitant. “Something came up at work and I can’t make it tonight.”

“That’s unfortunate. I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“Yeah, me too. Can we arrange for Sunday?”

“Sunday I’ve got a junior triathlon I’m supposed to make an appearance at,” Niall said. There was a muffle on the end of the line and the sound of pages flipping. “How about Monday?”

“Sure, we can make a plan.”

                             

“Monday it is then. Don’t work too hard this weekend.”

“I’ll try not to.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

#### ***

The sun was hanging low in the sky when Liam pulled up at The Commodore - a monstrosity of steel and glass which stood heads and shoulders above its neighbours.  It was also the most sort after address in the region with outrageous rental fees. It had been built in the early sixties by an eccentric architect who had been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. The story was that the building was to be his last song, one final artwork before shuffling the mortal coil. Tirelessly, against his doctors’ orders, he worked on the project, designing and perfecting. The architect would visit the site, watching as brick by brick, his building came to life. He passed away before the structure was complete, his last words being, “Now I own a piece of the sky.”

 Liam signed the visitors’ book and got in the lift, pressing the fifth floor button. He watched the flashing numbers before the doors buzzed and opened on Zayn’s floor. He walked out the lift and knocked on 5B. Zayn opened, having changed from his shirt, tie, and trousers into black jeans and a white T-shirt, which showcased a sleeve of tattoos that Liam had had no idea existed. Liam hadn’t bothered to change, choosing to take off the striped tie and jacket he had worn earlier and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt when he dropped by his flat to pick up the prior year’s Blackwell files.

Liam raised the box he had with him. “I thought we would need this.”

“You thought right.” Zayn stepped back and allowed Liam to enter. “Leave it on the coffee table.”

Liam set the box down and looked around. The flat was outfitted with expensive light fixtures, marble tiles, and masculine leather furniture with a modern entertainment centre. The common colours were black and silver. It was impersonal as if an interior decorator put it together straight out of an Ikea catalogue. It felt like a showroom, formal and stark, look, but don’t touch.

“Flat’s my father’s,” Zayn said, approaching him. “He bought it a few years back as an investment. I’m sure he’s spent more time living here than he did at home.”

“It’s nice.” Liam drifted over to the ceiling to floor glass windows, looking out. He could see all the neighbouring buildings lit gold and yellow. Far out into the horizon the earth swallowed up the sun. “But it’s The Commodore, so it has to be.”

“Do you want something to drink? Tea, coffee?” Zayn asked.

“Some water.”

Zayn disappeared, to get the water presumably. Liam sat on the leather couch, opened the box, and pulled out files, placing them on the glass coffee table. He was reading through the bank statements when Zayn returned, carrying a silver tray that had two glasses and a pitcher of water, complete with floating slices of lemon. He set the tray down, poured the water into two glasses, and offered Liam one. Liam accepted the glass and took a long sip before setting it on the table.

“Have you found anything else?” Zayn asked, foregoing the two other vacant couches to sit beside Liam.

Liam shook his head. “No. Not yet.”

“Let me take a look.” Zayn leaned in close and instead of taking the pages like Liam expected, he began to read over Liam’s shoulder. Liam turned to look at him and Zayn was so close, he could count each and every one of those black eyelashes if he wanted to. He could smell Zayn. And God, he smelt _amazing_. Liam’s fingers tightened on the report pages, scrunching up the corners. Zayn was still reading, leaning closer to reach and turn a page, his left shoulder brushing against Liam’s arm. When Zayn exhaled, Liam felt the warmth of his breath ghost over him and fuck, if he didn’t move away, he was going to get embarrassingly hard. He handed Zayn the pages blindly while reaching for his glass of water, when his hands closed around it he raised the cool glass to his lips, drinking rapidly. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and put the empty glass down. What the fuck was the matter with him? He needed to get a grip.

“Can I use your loo?” Liam asked. Zayn was paging through the rest of the statements and he nodded absently.

“It’s the second door on the right,” Zayn said, his eyes making quick work of the report. Liam left the living room and went to the loo. He locked the door behind himself and breathed against it for a moment, head leaned back against the wooden frame, eyes tightly shut. Once he felt composed, he ran the water, washed his hands, and raked damp fingers through his hair. He hadn’t had sex in ages. That’s what it was. And Zayn was reasonably fit and he already knew what Zayn’s lips felt like against his own, and the velvet warmth of Zayn’s cock in his hands. He just really needed to get laid.

#### ***

Liam returned to the living room where Zayn was still reading the reports. He chose to sit on the opposite sofa, reaching into the box for a copy of last year’s trading accounts.

“Finding any joy with that?” Liam asked, opening to the consolidated report.

“Nope.” Zayn turned a page. “If they were running tainted money through these accounts, they were smarter about it last year.”

“Or maybe they only started this year,” Liam said.

Zayn put down the report. “As much as I’d like to believe that, something tells me not likely.”

“What if we’re wasting our time?” Liam closed the report. “This is the auditors’ job; _they_ should be looking for fraud and financial manipulation of the accounts.”

“If what we thinks happening is happening, Blackwell is laundering money coming from god knows where. When the news breaks, do you think the general public will pause to distinguish between us, the accountants, and them, the auditors?” Zayn raised a brow. Liam reluctantly shook his head. “We’ll get lumped with the rest of the fraudsters. The company’s name will get dragged through the mud and by the time this is over, it won’t matter who between us is made D&H partner because they won’t be a D&H.”

Liam opened the report. “Fine, we’ll keep on looking.”

#### ***

Three hours later, Zayn’s living room looked like a post-apocalyptic office, with papers strewn everywhere and empty coffee mugs squatting on the table. They had gone through most of the reports, statements, and GL dumps in the file, highlighting, underlining, and analysing. There were a few transactions that Liam had picked up, following the money trail from the time it entered the books to when it left. Small, frequent, innocuous transactions, scattered haphazardly through the financial year, individually nothing large enough to draw attention, but cumulatively just above two million pounds. And this was only one subsidiary, so he could only imagine what was going on in the rest of the group.

Zayn got up and took two pages, placing them next to four others he had laid out on the floor.

“That puts me on 1.5 million,” Zayn said.

“I’m on 2 million,” Liam stretched out his arms and yawning.

“And that’s after one night of investigating.” Zayn returned to his couch and leaned his head back. “We need to talk to Fred.”

“I’ll give you the honour of breaking the news to him.”

“I thought you’d jump at the prospect of impressing him with your discovery.”

Liam shrugged. “I can only take Fred in small, infrequent doses and I’ve pretty much reached my limit when it comes to him for this month.”

“You really dislike him?” Zayn asked.                 

“Yeah.”

“Is it because he’s a homophobe and you’re gay?” Zayn asked this so matter of fact that Liam was taken aback momentarily. He picked up his feet and placed them on the coffee table, in between the used mugs.

“Maybe,” Liam murmured, studying his shoes. He’d never explicitly announced his sexual orientation to Zayn, but he had never hid it from him. If Zayn hadn’t had it figured out, Liam’s eagerness to jerk him off in the back seat of his car a few years ago probably helped him reach the correct conclusion. Liam had wondered over the years what Zayn’s deal was: bi, gay, or pansexual? Zayn had been pretty eager himself to get off with Liam that night.

Zayn got to his feet. “I’m getting a drink. You want one?” Something in Liam’s head screamed that this was a bad idea, but his mouth opened and the word ‘yes’ carelessly tumbled out. Zayn returned with two bottles of Amstel Lager, handing one over to Liam before returning to his chair. Liam took a long swallow from his beer and dangled the bottle over the arm of the sofa. He glanced at Zayn.

“Is Fred being a homophobe going to be a problem for you?” Liam asked.

Zayn’s lips turned upwards. “Is that your not so subtle way of asking if I’m gay?”

“Yeah,” Liam took a drink of his beer. “Are you?”

“I like what I like,” Zayn said.

“You’re bi?” Liam finished his beer and sat up to place the empty bottle on the table. Zayn drained his beer and got up. When he returned, he had two more beers in his hand. He handed Liam one and sat on the couch opposite to Liam.

“I guess I could fall under the bisexual category.”

“So you fuck men and women?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, I’ve enjoyed women and a man sexually in the past.” Zayn fiddled with the label of his beer bottle. The pause gave Liam the opportunity to catch on. A man. Singular. Him and Zayn in the backseat of his car. _Ohh._

“I’m the only guy you’ve ever fooled around with?”

“Yes.”

“And how was it?”

Zayn threw the bits of label onto the coffee table before glancing up at Liam. “Are you asking me to rate the sex I had with you?”

“In comparison to women, better, worse, meh?”

“It was…” Zayn paused, studying Liam. “Different.”

“Would you try it again?”

“Yes,” Zayn said. Then, “Are you offering?”

It would be so easy. Get to his feet, close the distance between them, and push Zayn down onto the couch. But he’d been here before and sex with Zayn was never casual. Not to mention they actually worked together now.

“I’m seeing someone,” Liam answered.

“The date you cancelled.”

“Yes.” Liam put down his half-drank beer, glancing at his watch. “It’s way past my bedtime. I think we have enough information to prove that something is amiss at Blackwell. I’m calling it a night.” He helped Zayn pack away the documents that weren’t flagged or highlighted.

“You can leave the files. I’ll go through them again this weekend,” Zayn said.

Liam walked to the door and put on his jacket. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah,” Zayn replied, opening the door for him. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“You too.” Liam walked out, took the elevator down, and headed home.


	14. The morning before the morning after

Niall was dressed in cotton pyjamas, still rubbing at his eyes when he opened his front door Saturday morning. His sleepy eyes widened when he saw Liam standing at his doorstep, picnic basket in hand.

“I couldn’t wait until Monday,” Liam said, holding up the basket. “I thought I could surprise you with breakfast.”

Niall took the basket and beckoned for Liam to walk in. “Did you handle the crisis at work?”

“For now.” Liam closed the door behind him and followed Niall to the kitchen. He gently took the basket from Niall. “Go back to bed, I’ll bring breakfast to you.”

 “Okay.” He walked out the kitchen.

Liam opened the basket, pulling out juice, omelettes, pancakes, syrup, and bacon. He found a tray from one of Niall’s cupboards and set out the items on it before carrying it to Niall’s room, where he found Niall in bed, covers pulled to his chin.

“That smells great,” Niall said, sitting up. “Did you make it?”

“I had help from a friend.” Liam placed the tray on Niall’s lap before kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed with him. “He stays next door to me and likes using my stove.”

“Louis?” Niall asked.

“Yeah, I don’t remember mentioning him to you,” Liam handed Niall a tray of food.

“You didn’t. His boyfriend Harry did.”

“You know Harry?”

“Yeah, he attends my cycling classes. We hang out sometimes.” Niall saw the expression Liam was wearing. “What’s that face?”

“Nothing. Did Harry mention anything else?”

“Like what?”

“Like him and I going on a date last Friday.”

 “Isn’t he dating Louis, your best friend?” Niall asked carefully.

“Yes.”

“I’m confused.”

“They have an open relationship.”

“So you, Harry, and Louis are-”

“No,” Liam said quickly. “Not like that. It was just one date. It was Louis’ idea – don’t ask, it’s a long story.”

“Just so we’re clear – you’re hundred percent single and not involved in some weird polyamorous thing with your best friend and his boyfriend.”

“Yes,” Liam leaned in close, brushing his lips against Niall’s jaw. “Do you want a demonstration of how single I am?”

Niall’s eyes fluttered shut. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Liam picked up the tray and set it aside. He pulled the bedding off from Niall, throwing it over his shoulder. “I hope you don’t have anything scheduled for this morning as this might take a while.”


	15. The morning after

It was Sunday morning when Liam eventually managed to extract himself from Niall’s arms. He drove home, parked his car on the front street, and entered the building, opting to run up the stairs instead of using the lift. When he turned the corner on his floor, he was greeted by the sight of Harry and Louis snogging in front of Louis’ open door.

Any hope of sneaking past unnoticed were dashed when Louis pulled away from Harry and released a loud, ‘Oi!’

Liam turned to face them. “I didn’t see you two there.”

“Hi, Liam,” Harry said.

“Hi,” Liam replied. “So, um, Louis explained things to you?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still snogging him, which means you’re not mad?” Liam asked.

“I put my full powers of persuasion to let dear Harold know how much I regret my actions and how the sun shall never rise if he ever withdrew his affections,” Louis said, placing his arms around Harry’s waist. “Enough about me and Harry. Where are you crawling from so early in the day?”

“Niall’s.” Liam walked to his front door, pulling out his key.

“Niall Horan?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Liam unlocked his door. “We’re dating.”

“Where do you know this Niall fellow from?” Louis nudged his hip against Harry’s.

“I take his cycling classes at the gym,” Harry replied, his mouth curving upwards.

“Cycling, huh?”

Harry leaned in close to Louis. “Are you getting jealous?”

“No,” Louis said, his face reddening. Liam rolled his eyes and walked through his door, putting his picnic basket onto the floor. Harry and Louis followed in after him, Louis still quibbling that he was not jealous of some spandex wearing Irishman.

“We should do a double date sometime,” Harry said, interrupting Louis spiel about real men not shaving their legs.

“A double what now?”

“You, Harry, Niall, and me – it’ll be fun.” Harry sounded pleased. He gave Louis a look that Liam read to say, _back me up._

Louis feigned excitement and said, “Why not?”

“Brilliant, I’ll ring him up.” Harry rummaged for his mobile, not giving Liam the opportunity to voice his words of protest. Niall was on the phone, saying yes, judging from Harry’s pleased expression. Liam could do a double date. How bad could it be?


	16. …in for a pound.

“You found what?!” Fred shouted across the boardroom table. Liam scooted his chair back and glanced at Zayn, who looked remarkably calm given the situation.

“Irregular income going through Blackwell’s accounts that’s indicative of high level money laundering,” Zayn said coolly.

“This is Blackwell, respected blue chip firm, not some backwater, run of the mill tuck-shop.” Fred’s eyes bulged as his voice grew louder. Through the glass walls of the boardroom, Liam could see the clerks seated at their desks, whispering amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at the room. Even if they couldn’t hear the tele broadcast Fred was making, the comically expressive way he was jabbing his fingers and the reddened state of his face made the situation easy to read. Fred was still strewing about how Blackwell was the gold standard when it came to upholding laws and Zayn must have made a mistake because they couldn’t, just couldn’t be doing anything so pedestrian, so underhanded, so –

“Sir, we’re not coming to you with a hunch,” Liam said, nodding at Zayn. “We have dates, journal entries authorised by the CFO, and income received from companies that aren’t registered anywhere in the UK.” Liam grabbed the file he and Zayn had put together on Friday night and pushed it across the table to Fred. “Blackwell is funnelling money in and out of its books.”

“They bring in more than 4 million pounds of our revenue from the services we perform for them.” Fred pushed the file back across the table to Liam. “Your job isn’t to provide assurance over the numbers, but to report on them so that IFRS’ bloody rules aren’t contravened. If the auditors say Blackwell is good to go, then Blackwell is good to go. Stop playing Sherlock, do the bloody consolidation and prepare the fucking financials. I want a draft on my desk before the end of the week.”

Fred got up and walked out, slamming the boardroom door so hard, for an instant Liam thought its glass sheets would shatter.

“That went well.” Zayn said sarcastically.

“He can’t expect us to ignore what we found.”

“I think he does,” Zayn said.

“Then we take this to the auditors. They’re signing the audit report this week and I’m sure they would change their opinion if they found out about the money laundering.” Liam picked the file up and got to his feet.

“Who’s to say that they aren’t in on it?”

“What?” Liam asked.

“I mean, it was fairly easy for us to uncover this. They’ve been out at Blackwell for the interim and year end audits and you’re telling me that none of them picked up the irregularities?” Zayn rose to stand before Liam. “Look at the other shell companies. Who’s listed as the registered auditors?”

Liam placed the file on the boardroom table, quickly paging through the Memorandum of Incorporation for the shell companies. Listed as the registered auditors were Guild, Parker, and Simmons. Blackwell’s auditors. “Then we report it to an outside party. Financial Conduct Authority, the NFA. Someone.”

“If we do that, Fred will have us fired,” Zayn said.

“As you said on Friday, if we don’t do _something_ , this house of cards comes down.”

“I’m not saying we mustn’t do anything. Just that we’ll need harder hitting evidence.”

“Let’s do more digging.” Liam said. His phone rung and he dug it out of his pocket with one hand, glancing at the screen. ‘ _Niall Calling’,_ it said. “I have to take this,” he said to Zayn, already pressing answer. “Hello, Niall.”

“I thought I’d call you to see how things are going,” Niall said on the other side of the line.

Liam glanced at Zayn, who was pushing his chair under the table. “Good as they can get, on a Monday morning. Sorry I ran out on you Sunday morning.”

A low chuckle. “I’m glad that you did, otherwise I would have ended up being late for the race.” There was a rustling sound as Niall asked, “So when am I seeing you again?”

“How about you stop by at my place after you finish at the gym? Around seven-ish.”

“See you then.” Niall ended the call. Liam pocketed his phone.

“That’s the guy you’re seeing?” Zayn asked.

“Yes.” Liam made his way to the door. Zayn followed after him.

“We’ll compile the financials, but I’ll continue to gather evidence on the money laundering,” Zayn said.

“That’s fine by me,” Liam said. They exited the boardroom and went to their separate offices.

#### ***

“A pot is burning,” Louis announced, poking his head into Liam’s bathroom. Liam turned the water off and stepped out of the shower.

“I thought you were watching the food while I took a quick shower.” Liam yanked a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist.

“Oh, that’s what you were on about.” Louis said.

Liam pushed past Louis and the pasta he had put to boil was emitting thick clouds of black smoke. He switched the stove off and placed the pot in the sink, where it sizzled when it made contact with the soapy water.

“Supper’s ruined.” Liam glanced at the kitchen clock. “And Niall’s going to be here at any second. Fuck.”

“You could always order in,” Louis suggested. Liam turned around and gave him a death glare.

“Why are you still here? You failed at the one thing I asked you to do for me.” Liam walked towards Louis, grabbed his arm, and marched him to the door.

“It was an honest mistake,” Louis squawked. Liam shoved him out the door and slammed it on his face with much satisfaction. He returned to the kitchen, performing a quick audit of the contents of his fridge. Week old KFC, some pizza that was definitely expired. Cheese. Fresh bread he’d bought yesterday. Okay, he could do something with that.

He took out the bread and cheese and placed it on the counter. He quickly sliced up some cheese, placed it in the bread, buttered the bread, added cheese, and placed the sandwiches in his sandwich toaster. He set the toaster to a low setting and went to get dressed in his room. In record time, he returned to the kitchen to find the sandwiches toasted a deep caramel brown. He removed them off the toaster and placed them onto twin plates. He was making a fresh batch of coffee when he heard a knock. He smoothed his hair down and went to open the door.

“Hello,” a grinning Niall greeted. Liam leaned in and kissed him, murmuring his own greeting. He nuzzled Niall’s neck.

“You smell sexy,” Liam said, pulling away and leading Niall indoors.

“Thanks,” Niall said. “You smell like something burnt.”

“That would be my first attempt at cooking you supper,” Liam laughed. “Please make yourself at home.”

Niall smiled as he took a seat on the couch. “You don’t do this often?”

“Cook dinner?”

“Have a fellow over.” Niall clarified.

“Not really.” Liam came around the couch and sat beside Niall. “Is it obvious?”

“Just a bit. It’s cute.” Niall leaned in, brushing his lips against Liam’s. “You’re cute.” They kissed, slow and sweet. Reluctantly, Liam pulled away.

“Our grilled sandwiches will get limp,” Liam said. Niall chuckled, grabbing Liam’s hand and moving it in down onto his crotch.

“Here’s something that definitely isn’t limp and needs some serious tending to,” Niall said hoarsely. Liam closed his hand over Niall’s clothed hard on.

“Is that so?” Liam pressed harder. Niall bit his lower lip and nodded. Liam found the zipper and eased it down before reaching inside Niall’s underpants and gripping Niall’s cock.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Niall gasped, widening his knees. “Thinking about you and me and this.” Liam jerked his hand up and down Niall’s cock, making Niall’s hips thrust up, trying to fuck into Liam’s hand. “Getting naked and you, oh god, and you-” There was a knock on the door. Niall and Liam looked at each other.  “Expecting someone?” Niall asked, his voice husky.

“No.” Liam got to his feet. “It’s probably Louis asking for a cup of sugar.” He yanked the tail of his T-shirt down, trying to cover his erection. He opened the door, expecting Louis. The person on the other side was definitely not Louis.

“We need to stop digging,” Zayn said.

“I’m a bit occupied at the moment. Can it wait?”

“No, it can’t.” Zayn walked into Liam’s flat. Liam closed the door and he followed after Zayn. He came to a pause when he saw Niall. “I see what you meant about being occupied.”

“Niall, this is Zayn – I work with him,” Liam said. “Zayn, meet Niall my… boyfriend.”  The word sounded strange on his tongue, heavy and full of meaning. He had never used it to describe any of the guys he had gone out with. But it seemed the most appropriate to describe Niall, especially when Niall’s eyes warmed. And like that, it was official. _Niall is my boyfriend_ , Liam thought as he watched Niall and Zayn exchange hellos before an awkward silence descended on the room.

“Liam and I need to discuss some work,” Zayn said.

“Is it that major client Liam’s been stressing over?” Niall got to his feet, throw pillow still clutched to his groin. Zayn gave Liam a look - like he thought Liam was giving away D&H trade secrets during post-coital pillow talk. “I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Niall, it’s not urgent,” Liam said, blocking Niall, who placed his free hand on Liam’s waist.

“I’ll be in your room,” Niall kissed him. “I want to pick up where we left off so don’t take too long.” This was whispered, but the room was small and Liam was sure Zayn heard. He watched Niall disappear into his room. He turned to Zayn.

“I’m trying not to be pissed at you right now,” Liam said through clenched teeth. Zayn handed him the file he was carrying. Liam flipped it open, read the first page, and sank down onto his sofa. “Fuck.”

“We need to stop asking Blackwell questions.” Zayn sat down beside him. Liam flipped the next page, his palms started to perspire, his heart rate picking up.

“Where did you- I mean, how did you find this?” Liam asked.

“I had a hunch so I looked into the business travel itineraries. After that, it was a matter of matching dates and locations.”

“Since when does a LSE listed company laundering a couple million suddenly equal said company working for a dangerous Russian mobster?” Liam asked.

“Please lower you voice,” Zayn scathed. “We don’t need more people learning about this before we decide what to do.”

“Niall isn’t ‘people’, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Yes, I got the memo. I’m sure Ivan Polzin’s henchman won’t pause to make the distinction when they decide to kill everyone we know.”

“We don’t know for sure that Blackwell’s involved with the mob,” Liam said.

“Excuse me?” Zayn reached for the file, pulling out the pages and throwing them at Liam. “Did you not look at the same fucking information I have? Dinner in Amsterdam on the 20th, same week as Ivan Polzin. We have the first mysterious deposit from Wagner Industries.” Zayn picked up the pages and haphazardly read from them. “Helsinki museum opening on the 16th of May, Polzin in attendance. Former Blackwell CEO suffers a coronary heart failure, Arthur Forsythe takes over the company. The list goes on and on. Forsythe’s in bed with Ivan Polzin. The money being funnelled into the business is _mob money_. Which makes us the accountants for the mob. You need to stop asking questions.”

“If you weren’t so keen in stealing my promotion, you wouldn’t have left your cosy London job and winded up in this situation.” Liam accused.

Zayn gave him a look. “You’re obsessed with that little fictitious storyline. I don’t want your fucking promotion.”

“Not anymore. Don’t pretend you weren’t gunning for it before.”

“Not ever.”

“Then why did you come back?”

“I had my reasons.”

“Which didn’t involve being made partner at my company?”

“Why do I feel like I’m always talking in circles when it comes to you? Of all the things you could be focusing on right now, you’re zeroing in on the most trivial, petty one.”

Liam felt a vein throb in his head. “So, now I’m petty?”

“And short-sighted and really annoying.”

“You’re an arse – always have been and always will be.”

“Well, this arse doesn’t want to get shot execution style in some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere and he would like you to get over yourself long enough for us to decide what we’re going to do about _this_.” Zayn jabbed a finger angrily at the folder.

“Okay, let me think.” Liam rubbed at his temples.

“I say we do what Fred suggested – compile the financials like we’re supposed to and go on with our lives.”

“So, basically, nothing?” Liam asked. He would have thought that Zayn would want to bring Blackwell to book, not bend over for them. 

“I happen to like living with all my teeth and appendages intact and I would like to keep things that way for the foreseeable future,” Zayn said, but something seemed off to Liam. Like he was saying words just to say them. “Liam, you’re not- I mean we’re not cut out for something like this. Listen very carefully to me – you’re going to complete drafting the Blackwell financials and then quietly resign from the firm in a few months. You’ll go somewhere else, Leeds maybe, something local and small and, importantly, boring. I’ll go back to London, citing my reasons for leaving as the D&H clientele being unchallenging; something condescending as I do believe it comes naturally to me.  And all of this will be someone else’s problem, not ours.”

Liam stared at him before he finally replied. “You do know what happens when good men do nothing?”

“Liam, I’ve never claimed to be a good man.” Zayn got to his feet and opened the front door. “I’m not going down this rabbit hole. Please consider doing the same.” He shut the door before Liam could respond.

#### ***

When he opened his bedroom, Liam found Niall sprawled on his bed. Niall was naked. Or, at least, Liam thought he was. Niall was under the duvet and had it pulled up so that only his bare shoulders and arms were visible. Liam stripped his clothes off before crawling into the covers.

“What’s wrong?” Niall asked, opening his arms for Liam who immediately settled into them and brushed his cheek against Niall’s warm chest.

“I hate my job,” Liam sighed heavily. Niall rubbed his shoulders and Liam pressed in close, trying to absorb that quiet strength Niall possessed, needing to dispel that unpleasant ache in his stomach.

“Can I do anything to make you feel better?” Niall whispered, hands rubbing Liam’s shoulders.

“You’re already doing it.” Liam leaned up, kissing Niall on the lips.

“Being a good listener is one of the multitude of skills I possess,” Niall murmured. Liam eased a hand under the covers and in between Niall’s legs and, yes, Niall was 100% naked.

“It’s not your listening skills I need right now.” Liam cupped Niall’s dick and squeezed it.

Niall pushed down the covers, hitching his hips up to meet Liam’s strokes. Liam quickened the pace he was stroking Niall, easing down to mouth the smooth, pale neck exposed to him. Right now he’d focus on Niall. The rest of it, the fraud, Zayn, D&H, the financials, it could all wait until tomorrow.


	17. Naked Figures

To avoid traffic, Liam left his flat early that morning. As he parked his car, he realised that apart from the building security, he was the only person at the D&H offices. In the lift, he checked his reflection. His hair was neatly styled and he was wearing his best suit - the expensive pair he normally reserved for power meetings.

Niall had smiled when he watch him dress from the bed, sleepy eyed, his body half covered by a thin sheet. Liam had been certain that the toned, cyclist’s thigh that was on display was intended to distract him. It almost had, as he fumbled, forgetting how the whole tie tying thing worked.

“I like that tie.” Niall had eased from the bed, the thin sheet tumbling to the floor in a smooth, quick motion, like a waterfall. Naked, he walked across the room to stand before Liam. “Let me?” Liam dropped his hands. Niall easily tied the tie in a neat Windsor knot, leaning in to kiss Liam when was he was done. He smelled like the sex they had had last night; sweet, comforting, and a bit filthy. Pulling away from him took Herculean willpower.

“Thanks,” Liam said when he ended the kiss. “You’ll find your way back home?”

“Yep, I cycled over here yesterday,” Niall replied, smoothing down Liam’s collar. “I’ll be okay.” He studied Liam’s face. “You look like you’re gearing up for battle.”

“I feel like it.”

“If work gets too much, call me.” Niall brushed his hands down Liam’s arms. “You’re ready to conquer the world.”

Thinking about it now, Liam felt like he knew what he had to do. He would complete the financials, send them to Fred, and this entire thing would get swept under the rug. The elevator pinged open and he stepped out, striding to his office. He logged onto the office network, pulled out the spreadsheets, and he reviewed the clerk’s work. The office became busier as more people arrived, though he didn’t pay them any mind as he checked the notes to the financials and all the statutory disclosure checklists.

Midday arrived and he was three-quarters through the work, emailing queries and review notes to the clerks when he saw Zayn at his office door. Liam nodded that he could come in.

“You’re serious about the-” Liam stopped talking when he saw Zayn hold up a sign that read in large blocky script: “DON’T DISCUSS IVAN POLZIN - OFFICE BUGGED”.

 _Are you sure_? Liam mouthed.

Zayn nodded and turned the page. “LOG OFF, TAKE BLACKWELL FILES.” He opened the last page he had. “PLEASE PLAY ALONG.”

 _Play along with what?_ Liam wanted to ask. Zayn closed the space between them, leaning down to kiss Liam.

“I can’t believe we’re still doing this,” Zayn said when he pulled away. “We’re going to get found out.” His eyebrows wiggled. Liam was dumbfounded, staring up at him. _Play along._ Right.

“Um, workplace romance is frowned on,” Liam winced at how wooden he sounded.

“Let’s go someplace right now, I can’t wait until later.”

“Let me save my work.” Liam logged off the system, his hands not as steady as he’d like them to be, too aware of Zayn watching him. He shut down his laptop, not waiting for the power to flicker off before shoving it into his laptop bag. Zayn grabbed the engagement files and Liam got to his feet, pulling out the prior year’s files before nodding at Zayn. He was ready to leave.

They walked out of his office into the open plain seating area. A few dozen clerks were seated at their desks, despondently typing on their laptops. Zayn veered left instead of going past the foyer, heading towards the emergency staircase door and Liam followed after him. As soon as they were through the door, he yanked Zayn’s arm, stilling him.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked.

“Not now,” Zayn replied, jerking himself free and descending the stairs two at a time.  

“You come into my office and tell me it’s bugged and—”

“I sweep my office for bugs daily. This morning, my signal went off when I checked.” Zayn hazarded a glance at Liam. “I figured they would have bugged yours too. Or maybe the whole bloody place.”

“Who?” Liam felt like he had shown up to a lecture without doing the prerequisite reading.

“Polzin, who else?”

“Why would – I mean, we’re _accountants_ ,” Liam said. Then something ran through his mind. Zayn swept his office for bugs. Who does that? He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Zayn made a frustrated noise and turned around, glaring at Liam. “Why were you sweeping for bugs?” Liam asked.

“That’s what I do every morning.”

“Because that’s norm-”

“We really need to get going,” Zayn said impatiently.

“I’m not taking another step until you tell me whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me.”

“How about I do you one better and show you?”

#### ***

Zayn led him to the parking lot of a grocery store down the street and to a severely, under the weather sedan instead of the posh Mercedes he normally toted around in.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Liam climbed inside of the car.

“It’s in case my car’s GPS is being monitored.” Zayn started the car and eased it into the street. Liam watched the busy midday traffic blur by.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” Liam said.

“I know, I met him last night.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you back.” Liam stole a glance at Zayn who was driving casually with one hand, the other resting on the rolled down window.

“You were playing along like I asked and we needed to get out of the way to buy us some time.”

“Still, it felt like cheating.”

“I forced you into it so it doesn’t count as cheating.”

“I’m not sure he’ll see it that way,” Liam muttered.

“Until this Polzin thing gets sorted out, I recommend that you stop seeing the cyclist.”

“You recommend I stop seeing Niall?” Liam parroted stupidly. Zayn drove the car into the freeway, adjusting his rear view mirror.

“That’s what I said.”

“You don’t get to dictate who I can or cannot see-”

“Actually, I can.” Zayn swerved the car into the fast lane, stepping down on the accelerator, increasing their speed.

“No, you-” Zayn lurched the car forward and Liam didn’t need to look at the speedometer to know that they were going way over the speed limit. “Why are you driving like this?”

“We’re being followed.” Zayn adjusted the rear view mirror again, looking back. “Reach into the glove box for me.”

Liam popped open the glove box and when he stuck in his hand, he made contact with something metallic and cold. He pulled it out and dropped it like he had been scalded.

“A gun? A fucking gun?” Liam asked.

“Pick it up.” Zayn swerved two lanes, heading towards Exit 23.

“Why do you have a gun?”

“Liam, just do what I ask.”

Liam picked the gun up with two fingers like it was riddled with disease and handed it over to Zayn. Zayn took the first left, and then a right before pulling up at an empty car park. He unclipped the gun, checked it for something before expertly cocking it.  His eyes found the rear view window and he gave it a hard stare. A few seconds later a black SUV drove past them driven by a woman with two children in the back seat.

“Unless they hire them young, that’s not Pozlin’s people,” Zayn put the gun back in the glove box and pushed the gear into place.

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you explain what the fuck is going on.”

“There isn’t time—”

“Tell me or I’ll jump out of this car.” Liam waited. Zayn turned the car off.

“You kept asking why I left the London firm.” Zayn drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his tone low, speaking quickly. “The truth is- I never left my London firm. I’m still working for them.  But they’re not an accounting firm and I’m not an accountant.”

“What?”

“I’m a forensic accounting agent. The agency I work for has been monitoring D&H for a few years. We thought the most we would get out of this case was bringing down a dirty malpracticing firm, but as soon as I saw the sub-ledgers I knew it was much more than that.”

“You’re working for the police?”

“Yes.”

Liam studied Zayn. The cut jawline, the sculpted cheekbones, features he thought he knew. “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

“Can we get going?” Zayn asked. Liam unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, briskly walking down the street. “Get back into the car!” he heard Zayn call after him. “Liam, this isn’t the time to be childish.” Liam came to a standstill, glaring at Zayn, before he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. He heard the car engine die out, but kept his eyes fixed straight ahead. “Liam!”

“Fuck off!” Liam shouted over his shoulder. Zayn jogged up to him and grabbed his arm. The fist that Liam threw at him was ducked and Zayn used his free arm to grab Liam and flip him over onto his back in some karate move. Liam tried to grapple Zayn down onto the ground with him, but Zayn stepped out of reach.

“Liam, get into the car,” Zayn said. Liam stared up at the sky; it was a picturesque blue with fluffy candy floss clouds scattered about. He slowly got to his feet, ignoring the hand that Zayn held out for him and walked haughtily to the car, slamming the door extra hard when he got in. Zayn followed after him, getting into the driver’s side and starting the car. He eased into first gear and pulled onto the street.

They drove in silence and Liam stared out of the window, watching the dilapidated paper factories give way to neat, box cut out suburban houses. They passed a school, then a green grocer before pulling up in the driveway of a red-bricked house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Zayn killed the engine and glanced at Liam.

“This is it.” Zayn got of the car. Liam stepped out the passenger’s side, looking up at the house.

“What’s this place?” Liam asked.

“The head office for the organisation I work for,” Zayn replied. Liam watched Zayn walk up the drive and knock on the door. Liam wasn’t left with much of an option but to follow after him. The door opened and a tall, blonde woman stood on the other side. She nodded at Zayn before looking over his shoulder at Liam.

“I never authorised you to bring him here,” the woman said.

“He’s at risk.” Zayn stepped inside, Liam following after him. They walked past a normal living room that was outfitted with framed pictures of the woman smiling with a man and matching set of children. Zayn led him down into the basement, tapping on a seaside painting which lifted up revealing a keypad. Zayn typed in a password before swiping his thumb on the biometric pad and the ‘basement’ door opened, eerie blue light emitting from the bottom of the stairs. Liam considered leaving, but the blonde woman was behind him and he had nowhere to go, so he followed Zayn to the bottom of the metallic steps.

He stepped on the bottom rung of the basement. It was some type of computer room; dozens of monitors were set up, every one showing the same illegible screen – moving, blinking dots and squiggly lines. Every now and then a blue dot blinked red and disappeared. There was a man at the furthest corner of the room, his back to them as he typed away on his laptop. Without turning the man said, “Malik, explain yourself.”

“Polzin is on to me,” Zayn said.

“Payne is not authorised to be here.” The man spun around. His hair was greyer at the temples and thinning at the hair line and his face was set in a hard, dangerous frown from the time Liam saw him last, but nonetheless, he recognized him.

“Professor Reese?” Liam gaped. The man Liam was sure was Professor Reese, his auditing lecturer back in uni, exchanged hard looks with Zayn.

“Mr Payne, I haven’t been Professor Reese for quite some time,” was the retort the man gave Liam. Whatever silent communication he was having with Zayn was completed because he stood up and approached Liam, holding out a hand. “I go by Jake these days.”

Liam shook his hand, glancing over at Zayn who stood with his arms folded, watching over the proceedings. One of the computers beeped ominously, but neither the man nor Zayn reacted. Liam glanced behind him and saw that the woman had sat down at one of the screens and was typing, her eyes on the screen.

“Forsythe is on the move,” she said, watching one of the blue dots. Jake let go of Liam’s hand and walked past him to stand by the woman.

“Maybe he’ll lead us to Polzin,” Jake said, leaning in close to the screen. “And help us get them on tape together, proving they do know one another.”

“What’s going on?” Liam asked. “What is this place?”

“This is the satellite office for the FOCAL, an agency that monitors and investigatesfinance based criminal activities,” Jake said. “The lovely lady on my left is Andrea. She’s the resident IT specialist and oversees the complicated network that you see here. You already know Zayn and you’ve known me in my past and short life as Professor Jacob Reese.”

Liam glanced at Zayn. “How did you end up working for, um, FOCAL?”

“Zayn has always shown exceptional talent, back in university. He participated in our studies and I approached him afterwards to recruit him for the group,” Jake replied. “You were also quite remarkable yourself, Liam. However, your evaluation depicted you as not suited for this line of work. Quite the pity, I remember thinking at the time. We need more people like Zayn and yourself; fresh blood.”

“When you came to work at D&H, you were undercover?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” Zayn replied.

Liam eyebrows furrowed. “I thought people used aliases when they go undercover.”

“We hire people with a sound finance background then we train and place them within organisations to evaluate the level of fraud and misconduct from the inside. There’s no need for aliases.” Jake answered, walking towards them.

“What’s going on with the Blackwell group and why’s my office bugged?” Liam asked. Zayn and Jake looked at one another - more silent communication. Whatever permission Zayn was seeking was granted.

“I was appointed at D&H because we suspected that they had been assisting the Blackwell board commit fraud. Once I reviewed the financials and assisted in tracking the tainted funds, Jake and Andrea uncovered how far up it went and I approached you to suss out if you were involved in-”

“Is that why you came by my house with your findings – you thought I was corrupt?” Liam asked.

“Your reaction convinced me that you weren’t.”

“You haven’t answered me – why are the D&H offices bugged?”

“It’s not the D&H offices – it’s just yours and Zayn’s,” Andrea said, getting up from her desk. She clicked on one of the keyboards. “Those lines you see there are transmissions to and from the D&H offices. The blue ones are cell phone and landline communications, green are other devices. Those two purple lines there are signals we’ve intercepted from your offices.”

“Why would Polzin be listening in on us?” Liam asked.

“We believe that Fred raised your findings on the money laundering at Blackwell to him,” Jake said. “At this stage, they probably want to determine how much you know.”

“You have evidence – shouldn’t you be making arrests?” Liam asked.

“Ideally, we would, but unfortunately at this stage the only people who would be arrested would be that crooked Financial Manager at Blackwell. We’d be lucky to indict Forsythe,” Alex replied. “And Polzin has enough shell companies to remain out of our reach.”

“What am I supposed to do in the mean time?” Liam asked.

“Ask Zayn, he’s the one who decided to bring you here.” Alex turned to the screen, reading data from it. Liam glanced at Zayn, who gave a nod towards the door. Liam followed after him and once they were out the front door of the basement, up the stairs, and into the airy, well lit living room, he turned to Zayn.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m not seriously disturbed by what I’ve just found out,” Liam said, sinking down onto the floral printed couch. This house was rather badly decorated: floral pattern curtains, pink and blue flowered couch. Hardly the type of place you’d expect to find a top secret organisation, but he guessed that was the point. Zayn sat down beside him, pulling a white lily printed throw-cushion from behind him before he settled comfortably.

“I know it’s a lot to process,” Zayn threw the pillow onto the sofa opposite to the one he was seated at. “You can’t share what I’ve told you with anyone. It’s too dangerous and we don’t know how many people are under Polzin’s payroll.”

“I’m not going to go blab to my friends about this,” Liam snapped. How stupid did Zayn think he was? He knew that this was high-level shit that could get people killed. He knew where the money was coming from; drugs, guns, and prostitution and other illegal sources. Funnelled, whitewashed and sanitised by Blackwell, then deemed to be operating revenues from legitimate sources. “What’s our next step?”

“Polzin’s people are onto us, so we can’t gather more information without bringing attention to ourselves. I’m not sure if they bought the whole secret office romance thing we played at today, so we’ll keep it up.”

Liam gave Zayn a look. “Keep it up how?”

“Keep pretending we’re seeing one another,” Zayn said. “Right now they think we fucked off somewhere to fuck, probably taking a cab. I’ll drive us back to the office, dropping you a few blocks from the building, and you’ll walk the rest of the way so we don’t arrive at the same time. When you get in your office, work under the assumption that everything you say is being recorded and everything you click and type on your laptop is being monitored. Okay?”

“I can do that.” Liam got to his feet.

“Let’s go.”

#### ***

Liam walked into the office and everything that had once looked so familiar looked foreign. Michelle smiled broadly at him from her desk and he returned the smile weakly. The clerks were busy at their desks, hitting keyboards hard as they worked to reach deadlines. Liam entered his office and sat down onto his chair.

He booted up his laptop, aware of every sound, the tap of his fingers on the keys, the squeak of the wheel of his chair. It all sounded so loud and intrusive, like gunfire. He wondered how clearly the people on the end of the bug could hear him. Could they hear how fast his heart was beating? Did they know that the dry, fabric sound was him wiping down his sweaty palms? Who was listening in on him? He imagined some faceless man dressed in black, with steely, dangerous eyes, fixed on the incoming signal. Liam tried to remember what he had done when he came in this morning. He hadn’t made any calls. He’d arrived early and started working on completing the Blackwell financials. He logged onto his laptop and pulled up Caseware, completing the work he started this morning.

He was rewording the financial instruments notes when his phone rang – the landline, not his mobile. He grabbed it absently with one hand, pressing it into the crook of his neck so he could use both hands on the keyboard. It was probably Michelle telling him to respond to the manager lunch invite she had sent last week so she could tally up the final head count.

“Liam Payne speaking,” he said to the receiver.

“You sound all businessy,” Niall’s amused voice said on the other line. Liam sat up straighter, pulling the phone up with his hand so it wasn’t resting in the crook of his neck.

“Why are you calling the landline?”

“Your cell is going to voicemail,” Niall replied. Liam remembered now; Zayn asking for his phone, switching it off, and putting it away in case the signal was being monitored. He’d forgotten to switch it back on when he arrived back at his office.

“Oh, the battery must have died,” Liam lied.

“When you switch it on you’ll probably want to read the messages I sent, somewhere very private.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“That might be this side of scandalous, so you’ve been warned,” Niall gave a quick laugh. In the time Liam had known him, he had come to learn the different types of laughs Niall used. There was his genuine laugh when he heard something funny and then there were the time-filler, punctuation laughs that were quick and fast and humourless. This laugh was the latter. Liam wanted to ask if something was the matter, but he was aware of the foreign ears listening to this call, so he didn’t.

“I have to get back to work,” Liam said, hating how cold the words sounded, like he was dismissing Niall like a busy parent would do their hyperactive child. “That big client has a deadline.”

“The one Zayn came over to talk to you about?” Niall asked.

“Yes, that one.”

“You never told me that you knew Zayn from uni and form school,” Niall said. Liam rubbed at his eyes. Had Louis been blabbing to Niall? This wasn’t the time or place to discuss his long and colourful history with Zayn.

“I guess it never came up,” Liam said and he knew he should stop at that, but he couldn’t. “How did you know that Zayn and I went to school together?”

“I wasn’t snooping or anything. I opened one of your cupboards looking for the TV remote and I saw your albums and started going through them,” Niall said. Liam remembered what his albums looked like: class photos, pictures with his family, and the few from uni, the group graduation photo with Zayn, surly and unsmiling in the back row. It wasn’t like his photo album was full of photo after photo of Zayn. Niall was quiet, the line crackling faintly.

“We’ll talk this evening,” Liam said. “I’ll come by your house.”

“Okay.” Niall said. They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Liam leaned back on his chair and hung his head between his knees. Three weeks ago, his life had been so uncomplicated. Zayn had been miles away in London, Louis hadn’t entangled Liam in his messy love life, and Niall- he didn’t know Niall three weeks back. Wishing all that had happened away meant wishing he had never met Niall and he didn’t want that because he liked Niall. He could see himself falling in love with him. The timing was just awful.

He sat back up, refocusing on his work. 

#### ***

He headed to his flat to change before driving to Niall’s place, trying not to look as anxious as he felt. When he stopped at a red light he glanced at the rear view mirror, trying to see if he was being followed. The cars behind him didn’t look like the nondescript sedan tails he saw in films. He pulled up on Niall’s street and parked his car, double checking that it was locked before walking up Niall’s pathway to knock on the front door. Niall opened it and grinned at him before he pulled Liam into a lingering kiss.

“Better close the door before we give your neighbours a show,” Liam said as he ended the kiss. He held up the bottle of wine he carried.  “I wasn’t sure if you liked red or white so I decided on red because it goes with most foods.”

“I’m not much of a wine drinker,” Niall took the bottle and read the label. “But this looks too good to be wasted so let’s have at it.”

They ate dinner in the living room, their plates balanced on their laps. The food was good; spicy rice with chicken strips basked in some secret sauce. Liam commented that the spicy rice was beyond delicious. Niall jokingly promised to tell him how it was made if he behaved himself. They finished off the bottle of wine and cleared the plates of food before cuddling on a love seat, Liam leaning against Niall as Niall ran his fingers through his hair.

“How was work?” Niall asked. “You sounded a bit off on the phone.”

“We’re almost at the finish line,” Liam said. “It won’t be soon before all of this is over.”

“And you’ll outshine Zayn and get that promotion?”

“I’m not sure I want it anymore.” Liam shifted in closer, feeling all the tension that had been pulled in his gut the entire day shift. Not disappearing, but easing just the slightest bit. Maybe it was the wine’s effect, or the soothing motion of Niall’s hands in his hair.

“But you’ve been working so hard for it,” Niall said, pulling Liam nearer. “Which makes me think that’s just the wine talking.”

“Perhaps.” Liam raised his head, craning back so he could meet Niall’s eyes in the near dark. “I’m realising that there’s more to life than just work.” This made Niall smile and he leaned to kiss Liam.

“Before I forget, I bumped into Harry at the gym,” Niall murmured against Liam’s lips. “He wants to set the double date tomorrow.”

Liam pulled away, frowning. “Double date?’

“He said he’s already run it through you, but judging by the less-than-pleased expression on your face, maybe he hadn’t.”

“No, no, he’s mentioned it, but it was before-” Russian mobsters, his office being bugged, and Zayn turning out to be some kind of secret agent. “I just kind of forgot, I guess.”

“Can we confirm for tomorrow night?”

“So soon?”

“I figured the sooner I met Louis and let him know my intentions towards you, the better.”

“And what would they, your intentions?” Liam asked. Niall wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Is that a yes for tomorrow?”

“That’s a yes for tomorrow,” Liam confirmed. Louis, Harry, him, and Niall all under the same roof. God help them all.

#### ***

A few minutes after midnight, Liam arrived home. He locked the door after himself and took off his jacket, hanging it on the coat stand. His flat was dark and the fridge hummed quietly in the kitchen. He considered having a quick shower before getting into bed but, decided against it because he didn’t want to wash away Niall’s scent from his body. He walked into the living room and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw a figure sitting on his sofa. A lamp clicked on and the figure revealed itself to be Zayn.

“Zayn, you nearly scared the shit out of me,” Liam hissed, holding his hand to his chest. Zayn was dressed head to toe in black, his left foot casually crossed on his right knee. Liam roughed a hand through his hair and walked towards him. “What’re you doing lurking in the dark in my flat?”

“Keeping watch. One can’t be too careful with Polzin’s men looking into us,” Zayn replied. “We also have to keep up appearances of conducting an illicit affair.” Liam widened his eyes and gestured around. The walls have ears? Reading his mind, Zayn responded, “I’ve checked your flat for bugs. There were none.”

“How did you get in?” Liam asked.

“Your front door is far too easy to break into.” Zayn’s gaze was appraising, dark eyes taking in Liam’s dishevelled appearance. “Where were you?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Liam walked past Zayn towards his bedroom.

“Let’s agree to disagree on that.”

“Whatever, I’m checking in. Let yourself out.” Liam opened the door to his bedroom, flicked on the light switch, and pulled off his T-shirt and jeans and threw the items on the floor. He wasn’t aware that Zayn had followed him until he heard Zayn’s voice behind him.

“I’m keeping up appearances in case you’re being watched,” Zayn said. Liam turned to find him standing at his bedroom door.

“If I am being watched then they would know I spent the better part of this evening fucking my boyfriend,” Liam snapped as he walked towards Zayn. “Why would I want to see my secret office lover afterwards?”

There was a slight smirk on Zayn’s lips. “Maybe your boyfriend’s efforts didn’t quite satisfy you.”

“I’m the furthest thing from unsatisfied after Niall and I have sex,” Liam snapped as he flicked the light switch and climbed into bed, aware of Zayn watching him from the door.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Zayn closed the door.

Liam turned around to watch the weak light creeping in from underneath the door before shutting his eyes, wondering when this entire thing would blow over. It couldn’t be soon enough for him.


	18. Balancing Act

The next morning Liam was woken by the screech of his alarm. He rolled over onto his stomach and pounded it with one fist before he placed his hands over his face. In the adjacent rooms he could hear movement, reminding him Zayn had stayed over. Liam sighed and got up.

The living room was bright with the morning sunlight streaming through the open window. The smell of coffee was thick in the air, aromatic and inviting. He spotted Zayn standing by the stove, flipping two sizzling omelettes.

“Good morning,” Liam said, taking in the sight of him. Zayn was already showered and shaved, his hair styled. Liam wondered if he'd brought an overnight bag with him last night or if this was part of the Malik magic and Zayn just woke up fighting fit and ready for the office.

“Morning.” Zayn emptied the omelettes onto twin plates. “You're just in time for breakfast.” When he stepped closer to him, Liam could smell the cologne Zayn liked to wear. Liam slid onto one of the stools and peered at the plate in front of him.

“Looks delicious.” Liam picked up his fork and took a bite. He wouldn't have pegged Zayn for the cooking sort - then again, he wouldn't have pegged Zayn for the working undercover-for-a-secret-organisation type either. “What's the plan going forward?” Liam asked.

Zayn came around the counter and sat on the stool beside Liam. “We’ll go to work like we do every morning. Jake and Andrea are looking into acquiring more evidence against Pozlin.”

“I'm not sure I'll be able to function normally with all of this going on.” Liam got up to pick two mugs from the stand on the counter, and poured coffee. He handed one mug to Zayn and sat down with his own.

 “We can't break our normal routine, not with Pozlin's men watching us.”

“How long will this go on for?” Liam asked.

“There's no way of knowing.” Zayn put down his fork, studying Liam. “I wouldn't have told you if I didn't think you could handle it. If you're freaking out or –”

“I'm not freaking out.” Liam cradled the warm mug in his hands. “I just don't like interferences.”

“Same old Liam” Zayn murmured into his plate.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You haven't changed much in the last six years.”

“Zayn, you don’t know me.”

“But I do,” Zayn said, looking up from his plate to meet Liam's eyes.

“Well, I don't know you - never have. This entire fiasco is proof of that.” Liam jammed his fork into the food. He wasn't the same person he had been six years ago. He wasn't going to be ensnared in Zayn's net. He wasn't going to allow himself to be lured into a backseat of a car for mind-blowing sex. He knew better and he did better. “Are you going to stay over again tonight?”

“I was thinking about it. Why?”

“Niall and I have a double date with Louis and Harry.”

“Didn't you go on a date with a Harry?” Zayn asked. “How many Harrys are running around?”

Liam felt his face warm. “It’s the same Harry.”

“Your best friend is dating your ex?”

“More like I was dating my best friend’s boyfriend while my best friend was dating him.”

“How does that work-” Zayn paused. “Wait, didn't Louis set you guys up?”

“It's a long story.” Liam chewed the last bit of his omelette and washed it down with coffee. “I'm going to shower and get dressed. I'll see you at the office?”

Zayn nodded. "See you then. Remember, act normal."

#### ***

There was an email from Fred waiting in his inbox. It was titled ‘ _Blackwell Deadline’_ with two exclamation marks. Liam clicked on it and read. The directors of Blackwell were considering purchasing a start-up in Italy and sought a valuation to be performed on it. The FD of the start-up would be emailing the necessary financial information through to him and Zayn and they were expected to compile the valuation and have it ready for the Blackwell board next Monday.

Zayn was also CC'd in the email. Liam typed a response to Fred, stating: "Received. Zayn and I will get on it immediately." He pressed send and browsed through the rest of his emails. Billing queries. Invites for month-end drinks. Another email from Fred saying he had reviewed and signed off the Blackwell financials and they had gone off to be printed.

His phone beeped. There was a new message from Louis. _Booked a table at East Side._

_I was hoping you and Harry would cancel._ He added another line. _You two will scare Niall off._

_Rubbish,_ Louis replied. Then: _I saw Zayn leaving your flat this morning_???

Shit _._ _He had to drop off some work stuff._

Louis replied. _His car was there the whole night._

Liam considered phoning Louis and telling him it wasn’t what it looked like, but his office was bugged.

 _hello?_  Louis' new message read.

_It's complicated._

_Keeping your dick to yourself is pretty uncomplicated last I checked._ A new message read. _I've dated a few cheaters. Liam, don't be that guy._

 _I can't explain right now,_ Liam typed. He heard Fred's voice outside his office. _gotta go!_ His office door swung open and in walked Fred with Zayn in tow.

“Mr Payne!” Fred bellowed. “Just the man I was looking for. As you know from my email, Blackwell are in negotiations to purchase a tech start-up in Italy. The bad news is they have moved the deadline date to this Friday. The good news is they are going to fly you and Zayn to Venice to expedite the process.”

“Venice?” Liam echoed.

“Tomorrow evening. The start-up’s FD and CEO will provide you with all the information you need to complete the valuation calc,” Fred said.

“How long has the start-up been trading?” Zayn asked.

“It’s at a pre-revenue stage at present, but word has it the company is poised to be the next big thing.” Fred’s mobile rang and he swiped his cell phone screen, not taking the call. “I know we don’t have a precedent for this, but I’ll be available to answer any questions you may have.” His phone rang again and he glanced at it. “My wife,” he said as explanation, in the condescending way married men said when answering calls from the ‘missus’. Fred walked out of Liam’s office.

Liam looked at Zayn, raising a brow. _What now?_

Zayn shrugged. “I’ve got work to complete,” he said on his way out. Liam shook his head and returned to his work.

#### ***

Liam finished dressing for the double date just in time to hear obnoxious, loud knocking on his front door. Had to be Louis. He grabbed his keys and wallet before walking to his front door and opening it.

"Were you wanking off or something? I feel like I've been knocking for ages," Louis declared, walking in. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a logo of some band Liam had vaguely heard of. “Someone’s ready to double date,” Louis took in the outfit Liam was wearing. “You upgraded your wardrobe.”

“I've had these clothes for ages.”

“I don't recall you wearing a certified, bad boy leather jacket before,” Louis’ tone was light, but his eyes were serious. Liam shifted on his feet, waiting for it. “You're a big boy, Liam. I'm not going to stand here and preach about honesty because it would make me a hypocrite. But from what I've heard of Niall, he's a good guy. Don't throw that way for a nostalgic roll in the hay with your teen crush."

"I'm not sleeping with Zayn," Liam retorted. "I can't explain it right now, but as soon as things clear up, I will."

Louis studied him for a moment, his blue eyes cool and assessing, the sassy, fun guy Liam enjoyed to hang out with nowhere in sight. That was the thing with Louis; he could be serious when he wanted to be. Strict too, like an overbearing parent. Liam didn't like the idea of Louis thinking he was cheating on Niall, but there was no way he could let Louis know about the money laundering and Pozlin and Zayn being a secret agent.

"Okay," Louis finally said. "Let's go meet our lads."

#### ***

Niall and Harry were already at East Side waiting for them. They were seated at a small table, a cosy love seat at the back of the Thai restaurant. Harry got to his feet and gave Louis a lingering kiss when they came in. Liam sat down and smiled at Niall, kicking his foot under the table as part of his greeting. Harry and Niall had ordered drinks already and a young, flustered waitress appeared and took down Louis and Liam's drink orders. Once she had them written down, she scattered off.

“Liam and Harry dated very briefly,” Louis said. "There! The cat's out the bag so we can now proceed to enjoy the evening."

“Thanks, Louis,” Liam mumbled. “Very smooth and not awkward _at all_.”

“It was one date,” Harry said to Niall, his tone somewhat apologetic. “I would hardly call it dating.”

“But the sex was _fan-tas-tic_ ,” Liam drawled. Louis turned to glare at him, his eyes lighting up with fury.

“He’s joking,” Harry said to Niall who was watching them with a bemused, fond expression on his face.

“He better be,” Louis snapped.

“I am.” Liam studied the menu. He’d been to this restaurant a few times and he always had sweet soya noodles, but after the glib comment Zayn had made earlier in the day, he didn’t want his same old, boring order. “What are you having?”

“Tom kha gai.” Niall tapped at the menu where it was listed. “Chicken coconut soup.” Liam leaned to read the write up on the dish: _Chicken soup drenched in coconut milk with tomato, mushrooms, and onions infused with a hint of coriander_. Liam returned to his own menu, skimming over it.

“I can’t decide,” he said.

“You always have the sweet soya noodles,” Louis said.

“I want to try something new,” Liam replied.         

“‘Try something new’, the laddie says.” Louis winked lasciviously at Niall. “Mate, watch out for this one tonight.”

“I wasn't implying anything,” Liam said. The waitress returned and they all placed their orders. She took them down and left. Liam took a sip of his drink. “How's veterinary school?” he asked Harry.

“Workload is intense but interesting,” Harry said. "There was this funny thing that happened with one of my professors-" Harry went into an amusing, but albeit slowly narrated spiel about his professors. Liam and the rest of the lads at the table listened in on it, laughing at the funny bits. Harry finished recounting and said, “How's work going? Is that new guy still giving you grief?”

Louis turned to look at Liam, eyebrows half raised. Liam gave a non-committal shrug. “He's not vying for my promotion after all.”

“Did you meet the deadline for your problematic client?” Niall asked.

“Yes.” Liam needed to change the topic quickly. “How's cycling?” he asked Niall. Thinking that the double date was turning out disastrously.

“This is unexpected,” Liam heard a familiar voice say. He hoped he was mistaken, but looking up from his food, he saw Zayn standing next to their table. He was dressed smart-casual in dark jeans and white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his inked forearms. The tattoos sort of made sense now. The Zayn Liam had been trying to reconcile in his mind wouldn’t be covered in tattoos. He wondered what other tattoos Zayn had hidden under his clothes. A provocative image came to his mind where he removed Zayn’s clothes piece by piece and inspected every each of ink that revealed itself to him.

“Hello, Zayn,” Liam said. “You know Louis and Niall. That long-haired lad over there is Harry, Louis’ boyfriend.” Liam gestured at Harry, who nodded at Zayn.

Zayn said a hello to Harry before returning that dark gaze of his to Liam. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen Michelle’s email, but they changed the booking to a 1pm flight with Virgin Airlines, not British Airways.”

“I hadn’t,” Liam said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“What flight?” Louis asked.

“We’re going to Venice for work,” Zayn replied. “Tomorrow.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about this,” Louis said and Liam knew Louis was thinking he was keeping this company funded Venice rendezvous under wraps because Liam was carrying on a torrid affair with Zayn.

“We were only informed this morning,” Liam stated. “I was going to tell you later on in the evening.”

“I’m sure you were.” The sarcasm in Louis’ voice was barely contained. Liam hoped it would go over Niall’s head because judging by the way Zayn’s eyes narrowed, it certainly hadn’t been missed.

“I’ll see you at work,” Zayn said, still frowning at Louis. “Nice meeting you, Harry.” He walked off.

“That guy has the knack of being everywhere,” Louis commented.

“He’s having dinner,” Liam said. “It’s not like there’s a lot of other restaurants on this side of town.”

Louis dragged back his chair and stood up. “Liam, can I have word with you for a moment?”

“I’m sure it can wait,” Liam countered.

“No, it can’t.” Louis walked to the back of the restaurant where the bathroom was located, not checking if Liam was following after him. Liam gave Harry and Niall a shrug and got up, trailing behind Louis. He turned the corner and Louis was instantly on him, pushing him against the wall.

“Whoa, ease up,” Liam said, shaking off Louis’ hands.

“You’re going to _Venice_ with him?” Louis asked, eyes sparking and his nostrils flaring.

“It’s not like we’re going on some romantic gallivant. It’s for work.”

“And you forgot to mention this?”

“As I said, I was going to bring it up later this evening.” Liam stepped away from Louis, smoothing his shirt down where it had been rumpled. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’ve known you for a while now. For the first time ever, you’ve met a great guy, Niall, and he’s perfect for you. I always suspected there was a reason why you weren’t into the dating thing, but I never got it until you mentioned Zayn, and it all fell into place. You said it before - Zayn is bad news. Don’t get sucked into his web.”

Liam raised a brow. “A few weeks ago you were cheering me on, wanting me to sleep with him.”

“A few weeks ago you hadn’t met Niall and you were in this weird apathetic funk.” Louis roughed a hand through his hair. “As a friend, I’m telling you- don’t make the mistakes I’ve made. Tall, dark, and handsome brings nothing but misery. I’ve known a lot of Zayns and they are nowhere to be found when you need them.”

“I’m not fucking him.” It was upsetting Louis would think he would do something so low like sleeping with Zayn while dating Niall.

“But _something_ is going on between the two of you.”

“Yes, but it’s—”

“Not what I think,” Louis interrupted. “I got the memo the first time.” He pushed Liam away and began walking back to their table, Liam trailing behind him.


	19. Figured You Out

They landed in Venice Airport, collected their luggage, and exited the Arrivals terminal to find a tall, silver-haired man holding up a page with “Liam Payne and Zayn Malik” written on it. They made their way to him and he introduced himself as Rocco, their driver for the day. He offered to carry their luggage, but they both declined. It wasn’t much anyway; just their laptops and overnight bags.

Rocco led them to the car park and into a white Alfa Romeo Giulietta before pulling out of the parkade and into the late afternoon traffic. The drive into the centre of the city was halted due to the dense traffic, providing Liam with the opportunity to sightsee out of his windows. The buildings caught his attention – three storey, gothic, mosaic glass splintering the late afternoon sun and the exterior walls thick and lush with green foliage. Venice was loud, what with the motorcyclists dashing in between cars with a needle-eye precision and drivers honking with frustration. Liam stared out of the window at the palazzi until Rocco pulled up to the front of the Hilton Hotel where Liam and Zayn were booked. They checked into their respective rooms, leaving their luggage, before returning downstairs to Rocco’s car.

The Scintilla offices were situated at a revamped Renaissance building. The ground floor was typical - gleaming tiles and mahogany furniture. Zayn walked to the receptionist’s desk and told her they had a meeting with Angelo Campo, CEO and co-founder of Scintilla. She dialled the phone and told them to take a seat. Angelo would be down shortly.

A few minutes later, Angelo Campo walked into the reception. “Liam and Zayn, I’m glad you could make the trip after such short notice,” Angelo said, shaking their hands. He was young, with a tangle of dark curls and an easy going smile. His speech was slightly accented when he spoke.

“Blackwell is one of D&H’s top clients, we’re aiming to please,” Liam said, following after Angelo as he led them into the lobby.

“Nice offices you have here,” Zayn commented.

“We just moved in,” Angelo said. “I’m still at that phase where I can’t believe all of this is Scintilla.” They reached heavy set mahogany doors and Angelo opened them, beckoning Liam and Zayn walk through into the board room.  There was a laptop set on the large wooden table connected to a projector. “I’ve prepared the documents Fred said you would need to perform the evaluation.” They sat at the table and Angelo clicked on the laptop. The screensaver with the Scintilla logo gave way to an Excel spreadsheet. “I’m not sure how much you know about what the company does.”

“Apart from the Scintilla being in the tech industry and a start-up- not much,” Zayn said.

Angelo nodded. “Mr Forsythe wants us to keep things under wraps – there are too many parties interested in poaching our ideas.” He picked up the remote. “The premise of Scintilla is connectivity. We devised a system which sifts through data that has been collected from online sites and extracts information which will pair up users based on their online profiles.”

Liam glanced at Zayn. “A dating website?”

“Not a dating website. _The_ dating website - the last a user will ever have to use. This isn’t simple match-making. We’re pairing up people based on years and years of small, individual footprints they have left online.” Angelo went to the next slide. “Google searches, eBay shopping, Amazon, and yes, Facebook. We collect the metadata, perform psychometric mapping, and this is where my psychologist cofounder’s knowledge comes in. We pair the user up with their ideal match.” The next image onscreen was of a couple smiling at the camera, hands intertwined, matching gold bands on the screen. The image faded out to be replaced by another couple, walking on a white-sanded beach, arm-in-arm. Another, a woman on a hospital bed, cradling a new-born baby, hair plastered over her face, her partner smiling proudly beside her. “These are a few of the successful pairings that have been made during our beta stage.” Angelo clicked the projector off and placed the remote on the boardroom table. “Any questions?”

“Are there any other products you offer at present or are you still researching and developing?” Zayn asked. Liam knew what he was thinking; is that it? Why would Pozlin want to own some obscure Italian match-making start-up? Liam wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when they had come out, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was underwhelming.

“We have a few and I’ll have that information ready for your valuation,” Angelo said, heading for the door.

“That would be great, thanks,” Liam said. Angelo walked out the door, leaving Liam and Zayn to exchange looks. Zayn raised a brow. They would talk later when they were certain they didn’t have ears, digital or not, listening in on them.

#### ***

“Maybe this has nothing to do with Pozlin.”

They were in Liam’s suite. Liam had his foot on the wooden table, bare heel resting on the table edge. His tie hung loosely around his neck. He lost his jacket hours ago. Liam leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling, resting momentarily from the paper work he was supposed to be doing. His eyes felt scratchy and dry from staring at the figures too long. He closed them momentarily and breathed, listening to the faint hum of cars outside and Zayn turning pages of the report he was reading.

“As much as I’d like to believe that, I doubt it,” Zayn replied. Liam narrowed his eyes, stealing a glance. Zayn was still seated at the chair, report held in his hand, dark eyelashes forming spiky shadows on his high cheekbones as he read. Zayn must have sensed Liam’s eyes because he placed the report down and looked at Liam, reclining against the couch. Liam felt his cheeks warm and his eyelids fluttered shut. He dragged air into his lungs. The room felt too small, too confined and Zayn too close, yet not close enough all at the same time.

He called forward an image of Niall in his mind; his favourite one. Niall waking up in the morning and rolling onto his side, an easy smile breaking out on his face, like having  Liam beside him was the best thing in the world and he couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to start the day. Liam held onto the memory, recalling how still Niall’s bedroom was in the morning. Nothing broke the silence except for Niall’s quick intake of breath when Liam reached out across the bed and placed his palms on Niall’s hips, pulling him close until their bodies were flush against one another, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, groin to groin.

“There has to be something we’re missing,” Zayn said, splintering the memory playing in Liam’s mind, dragging him back to the hotel room and Pozlin and madness. There was a shuffle of pages. “Something we’re not thinking of.”

Zayn was speaking more to himself than to Liam. Not that Liam minded; he had always loved the sound of Zayn’s voice. It had changed a bit over the years; gotten deeper, slightly raspier. There was a crunch of paper and something hit him on the chest before bouncing and falling onto the floor. Liam opened his eyes and spotted the offending object, a scrunched piece of paper.

“Very mature, Zayn.” Liam sat up, dropping his feet to the floor.

“You looked like you were dozing off so I had to get your attention somehow.” Zayn picked up the other report. “Here’s some engaging reading for you.” Liam shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to read one more boring report about this company.

“There’s nothing in there. If I was Pozlin, why would I invest in something that may not take off? Wouldn’t I want a sure thing, instant returns?”

“But you’re approaching this from an investor’s perspective, not a criminal mastermind’s.” Zayn paged through the report. “Pozlin doesn’t buy into companies because he wants to have a stake in their future profits - he invests in companies to use them to move funds and conceal his illegal dealings.” Zayn browsed through the pages, squinting as he skimmed through the text. “Maybe this company has something he needs for said illegal dealings.”

Liam ran his hand through his hair. “Let’s run through this again; Pozlin runs multiple shell companies in various countries. Drugs, gambling, prostitution, human trafficking, arms dealing – name it, he’s involved. But it’s a classic ‘dude’s got a problem’ scenario– illegal dealings bring in _too much_ money. Now he has to account to various financial institutions on _how_ he’s making his money. So, he buys shares in various companies and funnels the money into them.”

“Correct.”

“We’ve unburied his dirty money, but because of the multiple companies he’s hiding behind there’s not enough evidence against him when we indict Blackwell - unless Forsythe turns and testifies against Pozlin, which is highly unlikely.”

“Correct once more.”

“So, instead of indicting Blackwell, we’ve followed the dirty money and it’s led us here.” Liam reached for the report he had been browsing through earlier. “An online match-making website that pairs up people based on a profile collected by some bot.”

Zayn nodded. “I’ve forwarded it through to Andrea to see what she thinks.” He glanced at his wrist watch. “We can chill until she gives us a verdict.”

“Chill?” Liam raised a brow.

“Fine, don’t chill. Stressing won’t resolve anything.” Zayn got to his feet, stretching luxuriously, the front of his shirt hiking up, revealing a glimpse of his stomach. He dropped his hands and went to the mini bar. “Want a drink?”

“Beer,” Liam said. Zayn grabbed two bottles, handing one to Liam. Zayn didn’t return to his seat. Instead he sat on the couch next to Liam, so close Liam could feel the heat from his body. He took a sip of the beer, enjoying the malt taste on his tongue. He shifted until he was leaning on the couch on his right shoulder, studying Zayn in between sips. “What were you wrong about?” Liam asked.

He could have been asking about a multitude of things, but he knew Zayn knew what he was referring to. The kiss. Back in Edinburgh. Zayn and him pressed against a wall, their mouths latched together, breaths coming in rapid intervals. Over as soon as it begun.  Zayn turned on his side, mirroring how Liam was sitting, left arm on the couch, head resting on his hand, beer dangling loosely from his fingers. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand before answering.

“I’m wrong about a lot of things when it comes to you, Liam.”

“That’s not an answer.” Liam leaned in closer, holding Zayn’s gaze. “You’ve always been this enigma to me. I’ve spent so much time wondering what goes on in that mind of yours. But I think after all this time, I have you figured out.”

“And what do you think you know about me?” Zayn asked. Liam finished his beer and leaned forward to settle the empty bottle on the table before leaning back, this time closer to Zayn.

“You want me.” Liam let the words suspend between them like a tightrope. Zayn laid his cheek against his hand, not quite meeting Liam’s eyes. It was a strange feeling, having one up on Zayn. Being the one steering and not just following mindlessly, because that was what it had felt like that night in the back of his car.

Zayn had pulled him into his web, engulfing all of Liam’s senses, and Liam had succumbed without sparing the slightest thought into fighting it. It had been intoxicating to be wanted by Zayn, to have Zayn’s lips and hands on him.   Over the years he had tried to recall what led to the encounter in his car graduation night. They had both had just a little too much to drink that evening. He couldn’t remember who had made the first move; maybe it was him who leaned in first to brush his lips against Zayn’s, or maybe it had been Zayn, or they had collided somewhere in the middle.

Zayn shifted, breaking the contact between their bodies, and released a long sigh. “I could’ve fucked you graduation night.”

“You came close,” Liam said. Zayn was still not looking at him, his eyes downcast, staring at the bottle of beer cradled in his hand. His hair fell into his eyes, dark stands sweeping his cheekbones, looking uncharacteristically shy, very different from the Zayn from high school and uni. Liam wondered how much of that Zayn had been an act, a projection for the other students. How much of the real Zayn did he really know? He was afraid the answer would be very little. Liam bit on his lip before he continued to speak. “I didn’t think you wanted to go that far. Thought you thought it’d be too- gay.”  He reached out and brushed back Zayn’s hair from his eyes, keeping his hand on Zayn’s cheek until Zayn looked up at him. That familiar heat burned in his lower stomach and he knew he shouldn’t be doing this. But Zayn was looking at him, eyes questioning. “What were you wrong about?”

“You don’t revisit that night.” Zayn didn’t say it, but a heavy ‘ _like I do’_ completed the sentence. “I thought I could do it, see what it was like with a guy, with you, and move on like I’ve done in the past. But the second we kissed, I knew it wasn’t like that.” He reached his free hand and covered the hand Liam had on his cheek, moving it down to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it. “I do want you, but it’s so much more than that; it’s always been more than that.”

Liam closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Zayn’s lips on his hand and pinprick of Zayn’s stubble. He wondered if Louis had been right about him secretly yearning for Zayn. If that was true, being with Zayn should feel natural, but all he could see was Niall’s sweet smile in the morning, eyes lit up and his skin sleep warm and scented like apple fabric softener, fresh and inviting. Liam pulled his hand away and got to his feet.

“I can’t do this,” Liam said, walking to the windows.

“I know.” Liam heard a rustle of paper and he turned around to see Zayn packing the reports into neat piles. “I’ll continue reading in my room.” Zayn picked up the files, tucking them under his arm. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to leave. Liam couldn’t leave things like that and he followed after him.

“Zayn, wait.” Liam approached Zayn, not sure what he was going to say. “That night was a big deal to me.” He didn’t know what else to say so he shuffled his feet, willing himself to maintain eye contact. Zayn gave a curt nod, opened the door, and left.

#### ***

In the morning they met in the hotel dining area for breakfast. Zayn was dressed in a suit and was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper, when Liam arrived.

“We agreed on seven,” Zayn, turning the newspaper over.

“Okay, I’m ten minutes late,” Liam grumbled, sitting down, reaching for the pot of brewing coffee. It was the most tantalising coffee smell he had ever had the privilege of inhaling.

“Punctuality has never been your strong suit.” Zayn folded the newspaper and placed it aside. Liam tried to read the front page headlines and gave up when he realised it was in Italian.

“Don’t be grouchy so early in the morning.” Liam grabbed his cup and internally lamented how tiny it was, probably half the size of the mug he used back home. Nonetheless, he filled it to the brim with coffee, taking a sip and sighing with satisfaction when the hot, acrid liquid hit the back of his throat.

“Andrea got back to me early this morning,” Zayn said.

“And?”

Zayn leaned across the table lowering his voice. “It’s not a dating service Pozlin wants.” Liam raised a brow because if they were playing ‘Guess What?’ he was losing. “It’s the programming code, which can be used to hack into government websites and gather sensitive information.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. Andrea listed a lot of jargon which went over my head. It was 5AM when she called.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “Our instructions are to assess if Angelo has any idea what his code can be used for and if he can be convinced to hand all his programming code to the agency instead of selling it to Blackwell.”

“It seems like such a tough choice – millions of dollars from Blackwell vs handing over years of work to an unknown agency.”

“I’m sure he’ll be compensated for his hard work.”

“Your bosses got a couple of millions stashed somewhere?”

“Not exactly.”

“Just like I thought,” Liam said. “Let’s have breakfast and devise a plan on how we’re going to vet Angelo.”

#### ***

They met Angelo at his offices at 8AM and the co-founder of the company, Julianna Abate, was present. She was the psychologist who designed the psychometric aspect of the programme. When they walked in, she got to her feet as Angelo introduced them. She was petite with shoulder-length brown hair and she had a stern look about her which was amplified by Angelo’s own smiley, happy-go-lucky nature. The entire time Zayn and Liam spoke about the evaluation they had performed, she watched them, her dark eyes cool and assessing, asking questions now and then, proving she had done her homework on the business side of things.  

By 9:30AM the meeting was over and Julianna excused herself. Work never waits for no one, she declared as an explanation as she exited the room. Angelo broke into a toothy, boyish smile and asked them if they would like any refreshments. Zayn and Liam declined. Once they were alone, Zayn checked the rooms for bugs and listening devices. He didn’t find any.

“There’s no way to know if they know what Blackwell intends to use their company for,” Zayn said, pocketing the device he used to sweep the room.

“We need to tell them.”

“What if they turn around, tell Pozlin and his people, and blow my cover?”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know. I need some time to think.”

“You better decide fast. Blackwell expects the final numbers this afternoon. On paper this company looks good, even if we fiddled with the valuation equation. We both know Blackwell is going to buy this company regardless. Once they sign on the dotted line, they will have access to Angelo’s programme and from what you told me, that’s a bad thing.”

Zayn got to his feet, pacing back and forth. “We need to get enough evidence on Pozlin to get him arrested.” He walked towards the table and paused.

“What?” Liam asked.

“Let’s cut out the middle man on all of this. Forsythe, Blackwell, D&H – they are all pawns being used by Pozlin. We need to find something which will nail him to the wall, once and for all.”

“Something like what?”

“Collateral.”


	20. Follow Through

They caught the 3PM flight to Prague, sending the final report to Blackwell, giving the company the go ahead to acquire controlling shares in Scintilla. Pozlin would soon have access to a programme which will allow him to hack government websites.

Zayn hadn’t elaborated on his plan or why it involved flying to the Czech Republic.

Zayn had his laptop out and was clicking away in some prehistoric, 90s looking application. Liam couldn’t make out what Zayn was typing as it looked like gibberish to him; probably classified gibberish. He pulled out his cell phone, reading through the messages Niall had left him.

‘ _Miss u_ ’, a text read, making Liam’s stomach ping weirdly. He had replied earlier with “ _me too_ ”. Niall most recent message was a picture of a dog in a tutu. Liam replied with “ _very funny, ha ha_.” He hadn’t received any messages from Louis, but Liam wasn’t surprised, considering how they left things the last time they spoke, he probably thought Liam was out in Venice fucking Zayn every which way to Sunday. He typed out a message to Louis, ‘ _Hi_ ’, and waited.

Three hours later, when they disembarked at Václav Havel Airport, Louis still hadn’t replied.

#### ***

“What’s your brilliant plan?” Liam asked as they made their way out of baggage collection.

“We bring the game to Pozlin,” Zayn said. Liam grabbed Zayn’s arm, stilling him. People pushed by either side of them.

“By doing what?” Liam asked.

“I’ve sent an email to an Interpol agent in Prague telling him we’ve uncovered a mother-load of evidence against Pozlin and I’m only willing to share this evidence with him in person.” Zayn pulled his arm free from Liam’s grasp and adjusted the strap of his laptop bag. “I let my PC get tracked as I sent the message and if everything goes to plan, we’ll be intercepted by Pozlin’s people and get abducted.”

“Why would we want to be adducted by Poz-” A group of flight attendants walked by and Liam lowered his voice “by _that man_? He’s dangerous. What’s to stop him from just killing us?”

Zayn didn’t falter. “Absolutely nothing.”

Liam stared at Zayn. “With all your training, that’s the best you could come up with? And Profes- Jake just went along with it?” Zayn’s jaw twitched. Liam narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t inform the rest of your team. It’s official - we’re dead.”

“I didn’t tell them because they would only try to stop me.”

“With good reason!”

“They can bury Angelo and Julianna with enough red tape to keep Blackwell from acquiring the programming and Pozlin gets away? We can stop him. You and me with this plan.”

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Liam said.

“Take the next flight to Heathrow and walk away from all of this.”

“You know I would never let you be abducted by yourself.” Liam stepped back, feeling a frisson of fear run up his spine. He couldn’t let Zayn do this alone, special agent training or no special agent training. It would be unseemly.

“Are you sure? Once we exit the terminal, there’s no turning back.”

“I’m sure.” Liam set his jaw hard.

#### ***

It was chilly outside Václav Aiport. Liam buttoned up his blazer and folded his arms across his chest while Zayn got a taxi. Liam silently helped Zayn put their luggage into the boot. Liam sat huddled in the back, looking out the window at the historic baroque buildings and cobbled streets, feeling Zayn’s eyes on him. He didn’t ask where they were going or how they were supposed to be abducted by Pozlin’s people, but the mechanics of the entire situation didn’t matter.

They took a turn into a cobbled, roadside lined street. The driver adjusted his rear view mirror and spoke up in a heavily accented English.

“This is your first time in Prague, yes?” the driver asked.

“It is,” Zayn replied.

“Once you’re done with your business, stay to explore the city. It’s beautiful this time of year, so much to see and do. Take my card.” He handed a card to Liam. The driver continued to speak, pointing out landmarks and the popular tourist spots. When the car stopped at a traffic light, two black SUVs surrounded the car. Masked men jumped out, pointing their guns at the driver before yanking his door open. The driver was thrown aside and one man masked jumped in the front, another opening the back passenger door.

“Move!” the masked man shouted. Liam shifted closer to Zayn and the two SUVs sped off, the taxi following after them. The masked driver took a left turn into a dilapidated part of town, driving until an old, rusted warehouse loomed ahead of them.

“Get your luggage and go inside the warehouse,” the driver said, tipping the top of his head at the direction of the warehouse. Liam peered through the window, noting how there were several CCTV cameras affixed on the walls of the building. Its doors were re-enforced, the steel gleaming in the weak afternoon sun. The windows of the warehouse were tinted, smudge free, and well maintained despite the overall rundown appearance.

The masked man in the back opened the door and climbed out, Zayn and Liam following after him, collecting their luggage from the boot before walking up towards the doors. Behind him, Liam heard the screech of tires as the taxi drove off at a high speed.

“Zayn, we can still bolt,” Liam whispered, his eyes on the blinking CCTV cameras. He had an eerie feeling of being watched, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

“Just trust me, okay?” Zayn stepped up to the corrugated iron door and the doors opened, revealing a brightly lit interior. Liam held up his hand over his eyes, shielding himself from the harsh glare. Zayn was already walking inside and Liam followed after him, their twin footsteps echoing out on the ceramic floor. He heard a loud bang and turned to see the door close behind them, locking them in. His eyes slowly adjusted and his surroundings came into focus. There were aisles of industrial machinery. The warehouse was large, with offices at the back overlooking the main work area.

“Welcome to my humble offices,” a voice said. Liam and Zayn looked up and there, standing on a platform, was Pozlin himself. He was flanked on either side by his men, gazing benevolently down at them, as a sage would raptured acolytes. “Mr Malik and Mr Payne. Welcome to Prague.” 

One of the henchmen pressed a button and the platform creaked in protest before descending down. Once it touched the floor, the henchman opened the railing and Pozlin stepped out.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Pozlin stopped in front of them. He didn’t sound like Liam thought he would. His accent was English, Brummie to be exact, not Russian. He was dressed in a white suit, heavily tanned like he’d just arrived back from a safari holiday. His eyes were a startling blue, his hair a distinguished type of silver, and he wore the beatific smile of an enlightened man. He held out his hand. “Ivan Pozlin,” he said, like Zayn and Liam didn’t know who he was.

“As it’s customary in situations like these, I have to make sure there aren’t any recording devices on your person.” Pozlin shrugged his shoulders like it pained him to say such a thing. He gestured at the bags they were carrying. “You leave these out here. They’ll be perfectly safe.”

Zayn dropped his laptop and overnight bags onto the floor. One of the henchmen collected the bags while the other approached Liam and began scanning him with a device. When it pinged on Liam’s left trouser pocket, the henchman dug his hand into it and pulled out Liam’s cell phone.

“That’s my phone,” Liam protested, reaching out, watching in horror when the henchman dropped it to the floor and crushed it with the heel of his steel reinforced tactical boots. He glanced at Pozlin who gave another shrug, like this thing was some sort of rule that he simply being forced to abide by. The henchman completed searching Liam, yanking the front of Liam’s shirt to, presumably, check for a wiretap. Satisfied Liam was clean, he shoved him forward and proceeded to dish out a similar treatment to Zayn. Once Zayn was equally divested of his phone he was also shoved forward. The henchman gave a nod to Pozlin, whose smile widened.

“Marvellous. _Now_ we talk.” Pozlin did an elaborate bowing motion. “After you.”

 Zayn walked to the platform with Liam as Pozlin and his men followed. The platform groaned and protested its way to the next level, drawing out one last metallic groan when it came to a standstill. Pozlin climbed out of the platform and led Zayn and Liam into a lavishly decorated office outfitted with fur carpets, expensive artwork on the walls, and a Swarovski crystal chandelier light. He took a seat at a white leather couch and beckoned for them to sit. They sat on the couch opposite to him. Liam glanced at the door, noting there was one henchman stationed at it, the other nowhere to be seen.

“What’s this I hear that you have evidence against me?” Pozlin said.

“Blackwell Inc – we know its board has been funnelling dirty funds into the UK for you,” Zayn said with no preamble.

“Hmmm, that’s a very dangerous statement,” Pozlin’s smile was still in place, his teeth flashing white between his fleshy lips. He’d had his lips done, Liam realised. From the moment he had met Pozlin, his mind had been trying to place what was wrong with the man’s face. His forehead was too smooth despite the crow’s feet around his eyes and the lines around his mouth. His lips were as pouty as a twenty year old swimwear model’s, out of place and absurd on the face of a middle-aged Russian mobster.  

“But one that you’re not objecting,” Zayn said. Liam hoped that Zayn’s confidence wasn’t feigned.

“Knowledge like that can get ya disappeared,” Pozlin said, easing into a new accent. Something out of a Godfather movie; New Yorkian and clipped. Pozlin raised his hand and gestured. The henchman at the door went to a drink stand and picked up bits of ice, depositing them into a gold lined tumbler. Amber liquid was poured into the tumbler and the henchman handed the drink to Pozlin. “I’m merely a minority shareholder, hardly capable of influencing its esteemed board into funnelling dirty money.” Pozlin took a long sip of his drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass of his tumbler.

Zayn glanced at Liam before speaking up. “The information might be coincidental, but Interpol will be interested in a business that pays over millions of pounds to another, seemingly, for no apparent reason.”

“We pay Blackwell admin fees.”

“To do what exactly?”

“I’m not obligated to answer such a presumptuous question.” Pozlin placed his tumbler down on the leather couch’s arm rest. He steepled his hands, looking from Zayn to Liam. “Mr Payne, why are you so quiet?”

“Zayn’s talking for the both of us,” Liam said, glad that his voice didn’t betray how ill at ease he felt.

Pozlin returned to his earlier Brummie accent. “Is he this quiet when you have him bouncing on your prick, Malik? Or are you able to make him scream?” Pozlin asked conversationally. He smiled, pursing his duck lips. “Don’t look so surprised. My hand is far reaching and it has come to my attention that you D&H boys do more than balance accounts with each other.” He reached for his glass, swirling it before he took a luxurious sip. “Or do I have it wrong and it’s you who does the screaming?” His lip curled with distaste. The jump from sleazy charmer to sinister snake was swift. “Give me the evidence and maybe I’ll let you walk out of here,” Pozlin boomed.

“No,” Zayn said. The henchman took a threatening step towards them, his hand dropping down to his gun holster.

Pozlin rose, the leather chair he’d been sitting on squeaking when he got to his feet. “I think I’d like to see it – what is it you lot call it? Knocking boots?”

“Excuse me?” Zayn turned to Pozlin.

“I’ll make myself clear - I want to see the two of you fuck.” Pozlin’s tone was akin of a man discussing the weather or a pleasant meal. His lips were pursed into a smile that didn’t reach his reptilian eyes. He pulled out a key and walked to a door at the back of the office, opening to reveal a bedroom with a large Victorian framed antique bed and three cameras propped on tripods. The bedroom’s ceiling was mirrored like a downtown Las Vegas motel, and just as sleazy. “On that bed. It’s all set up.”

 

“We’re not, you expect us to-,” Liam stuttered.

“I’ll make it real simple; either you fuck each other on that bed,” Pozlin drawled as he walked into the bedroom and perched on the bed, smoothing out the sheets with a tan hand, “or my trusted friend over there, the big guy, will enjoy both of your asses.”

Liam glanced at Zayn. The cold fear that had been twisting in his gut crawled up into his veins, causing his heart to lurch in his chest. Zayn was staring Pozlin down. Any hope Liam clung to that Zayn had a contingency plan somewhere up his sleeves were dashed when Zayn blinked, looked at the bed, and shrugged off his jacket.


	21. Contingency Plan

Liam watched Zayn gravitate to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves. Pozlin rose from the bed and filled his glass to the brim. Zayn didn’t look scared as he pulled off his shirt, exposing the tattoos running up and down his arms and his chest.  

“And you, Mr Payne?” Pozlin said, his eyes still on Zayn, roaming over the ink on Zayn’s skin. His tone was light with an underlying threat.

“I’m not going to fuck Zayn,” Liam said. For the first time since Pozlin had announced his demands, Zayn met Liam’s eyes. His expression wasn’t pleading or angry. It was still set in that cool indifference that belied the peril of the current situation they were in.

“Veektor,” Pozlin called out. The henchman stepped forward, Liam noting how absurdly tall he was. The cruel shape of his Cro-Magnon skull was accentuated by his closely cropped hair.  “Undress Mr Payne.”

The henchman’s lips were curved in a leering smile, closing the space between him and Liam in three massive steps. Liam tried to move back, but with the wall behind him, there was nowhere for him to go. Meaty hands landed on his chest, yanking his shirttails out of his trousers.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it myself.” Liam waited while the Cro-Magnon gave his boss a questioning look. Pozlin nodded once. The intrusive hands left Liam and the henchman stepped back. With shaking hands, Liam pulled off his jacket, throwing it on the floor. His shirt was next, but his stupid hands kept trembling so much he couldn’t undo the buttons. He closed his eyes and took a breath and when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he knew it was Zayn. He felt steady, sure hands make quick work of his shirt. He kept his eyes shut as Zayn helped him out of his clothes and raised his arms to pull the vest Liam wore off. The graze of cold lips against his neck was unexpected and all he could think was, _not like this_. He wanted Zayn, had wanted him for so long but- not like this. When neither of them chose this, when he could feel Pozlin reptile eyes on them, enjoying the show. He pulled away from Zayn. If they were going to do this then he wouldn’t sugar-coat it and make it what it wasn’t.

“No kissing,” Liam said, opening his eyes. Pozlin was now seated on the chair in the corner, tumbler in hand, foot neatly crossed at the ankles. The henchman stood guard at the door, hand on the weapon at his waist.

“I’m sure you’ve had worse things in your mouth than Mr Malik’s spit,” Pozlin’s tone was mocking, his eyes filtering between their bodies. “Like a certain cyclist’s dick.” He laughed when he saw the look on Liam’s face. “Yes, I know about your Irish lover. I know the store your mama buys her groceries at. I know all of your sister’s middle names. I also know that you two aren’t lovers. Kiss him. _Now_.”

Liam placed his hands on Zayn’s cheeks, his fingers curling into Zayn’s thick hair. Zayn was still, his face impassive. _What are you thinking?_ Liam wondered. _How can you be so fucking calm?_ Zayn’s lips were warm, the outline of his body against Liam’s far more familiar than it should be. They were still kissing when there was a loud crack and for a second Liam thought that Pozlin had gone ahead and shot them, that this entire thing had been a distraction. His ears were ringing when he felt Zayn yank his hand.

“The bed! Help me put the bed up!” Zayn shouted, thick smoke filled the room and the chair where Pozlin had been sitting was empty. Liam snapped into focus, helping Zayn to put the bed up and they wrapped their shirts around their mouths. There was a thud of boots and gunfire, breaking glass, a shout, then silence. At this stage, the room was enshrouded in darkness. Zayn was still holding his hand, his thumb pressed into Liam’s wrist as if he was taking Liam’s pulse. It was reassuring.

“Agent Malik?” an American accented voice called out from the smoke. Zayn let go of Liam’s hand and rose to his feet.

“Here!” Zayn called. The teargas made Liam’s eyes water and he could barely see, rising blindly, feeling around until Zayn’s hand found his and he was being led through the thick smoke towards the doorway. There were voices coming from out the door. Zayn pushed Liam forward and a tall and unfamiliar figure placed an oxygen mask over his face. When he felt the figure push him forward he resisted.

“I’m right behind you, Liam,” Zayn said. Liam allowed himself to be herded out of Pozlin’s office, glass crunching under his shoes. The thick smoke cleared and he saw an assortment of figures dressed head to toe in black suits, the type SWAT teams wore, their faces hidden in helmets. The man who had led them took his mask off.

“This was incredibly reckless of you, Agent Malik,” the man said, placing his helmet under one arm. He was in his forties, his face stern in a headmaster way.

“This case would have gone on for years and I couldn’t risk that,” Zayn replied.

“How did you know that we had an agent on Pozlin’s team?”

“I have my sources,” Zayn said.

 The Agent spoke into his radio that the perimeter had been secured and Pozlin was in custody. He walked off. Liam unwrapped his shirt from his shoulders, where he had been using it to cover his mouth, and pulled it on.

“What’s going on?” Liam buttoned up his shirt, glad to see that his hands were steady. Downstairs in the factory, he saw agents and crime scene investigators sweeping through the debris, cataloguing and marking the evidence. There was blood splatter on the floors.

“My contingency plan.” Zayn was shirtless, but he seemed unconcerned. He had his hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets, his shoulders squared like he was expecting a fight. Liam felt far too tired, bouts of energy draining from him by the second. “By kidnapping us, Pozlin granted Interpol the right to raid his office. We should find enough evidence to link him to Blackwell and his other crimes.”

“Is it over?”

“Yes. Pozlin’s going away for a long time.”

“When we get back home, lose my number. I don’t want to hear from you ever again,” Liam said. That cool indifference settled over Zayn and he nodded his head once.  Liam wrapped his arms around himself, waiting for agents to return and tell him when he could go home.

#### ***

With D&H embroiled with Pozlin’s downfall, Liam found himself without a job for the first time in his working life. Three months as an unemployed accountant passed and he burned through a large chunk of his rainy day funds.

Louis was supportive throughout, saying he could lend Liam some money if things turned bad. He even offered to room with Liam and thereby reduce Liam’s living expenses as a huge portion of his expenses were attributed to his car instalment, payments, and his rent. Liam refused, saying something would come up. That was two weeks ago and nothing had come up.

After returning from Prague, his relationship with Niall fragmented. It wasn’t sudden - they were together for weeks afterwards. Liam attended Niall’s class twice a week and met up during the day, time to spend together unlimited now that Liam didn’t have anywhere to be. He put all his focus into Niall - morning runs in the park, lunch dates at those cafes he had never visited, dinner dates at Niall’s house. The more he committed himself to make up for the traitorous attraction he felt towards Zayn, the more Niall seemed to pull away. He’d told Niall when he came back about Zayn, the Pozlin case, and the impromptu undercover work that had involved some kissing.

Niall had looked at him, his eyes cool and shut off. “But you were just pretending?”

“Yes, there isn’t anything between me and Zayn.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Louis said-”

“You’ve been discussing me with Louis?”

“He thought you were cheating on me.”

“I’ve explained. Zayn and I were-”

“Just pretending?” Niall asked. Liam nodded. “Well he didn’t know that at the time.”

“But you do, right?”

Niall’s voice, when he spoke after a while, was stilted. “Right.”

Things weren’t the same between them after that. Liam tried to show Niall every day how much he cared for him, but Niall seemed unconvinced. It stung because Liam hadn’t done anything - he hadn’t cheated, but the way Niall acted, it was if he had. The distance between them grew and when Niall called him one day, his tone resigned and tired, Liam knew what was happening.

“It’s not working,” Niall said, apologetic.

“I know.”

“I tried, but he’s so deep inside of you, I can’t even-” The line went silent. Liam released a breath, feeling that familiar fatigue settle in his bones. Niall spoke quickly. “If I had a chance, I would fight, but I know you’ll eventually admit it to yourself. I’m not, I mean, I don’t want to-”

“It’s okay, Niall. I understand.”

They exchanged goodbyes and with that, their relationship was over.

#### ***

He didn’t hear from Zayn during those months. He did hear back from the recruitment agencies and the response was always the same; no one would hire someone from D&H. He grew a beard and sat in front of his telly watching daytime infomercials. His parents called, speaking words of encouragement. They wanted him to come home. They had even prepared his room.

Liam knew they meant well, but the idea of going back home and setting up in his childhood bedroom with its childish, ugly curtains depressed him. He kept emailing his resume, branching out to London firms, skipping the recruitment agencies, but the firms were candid; no one wanted to touch anyone who was remotely involved with the Pozlin scandal.

#### ***

It was more out of curiosity than anything else when he drove out to FOCAL’s field office. He expected to find the house vacant with a _For Sale_ sign up in front, or a new family residing there. He parked on the street, spying on the yellow house at the end of the cul-de-sac with its the flower lined path. His steps were hesitant when he walked up to the house, pausing for a moment before knocking on the front door. He could smell the sweet vanilla scent of homemade biscuits. Andrea opened the door wearing an apron. If she was surprised by Liam on her doorstep, she didn’t let it show.

“Hello, Liam.” She stepped aside, letting him in. A game show was playing on the telly. Liam stood in the middle of the living room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Andrea pulled off the apron she was wearing and indicated for Liam to sit. “We’re grateful for the role you played in apprehending Pozlin.”

“That was all Zayn. I wasn’t even sure what his plans were at the time.”

Andrea’s eyes were kind when she spoke. “I hear things got a bit hairy at the end.”

“Interpol arrived just as when they were needed.” The end credits of the game show were rolling and the theme song playing was familiar, reminding Liam of being a young boy, playing with his Spiderman action figure. His mum probably watched the show and he had heard the theme song from his room.

“Not that I don’t like being visited by a handsome young man, but I do have to ask – why are you here, Liam?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I got in my car and found myself here.”

“This is my home.”

“It’s the FOCAL homebase.”

  
“Yes, it’s that too.” Silence. Then, “Zayn’s not here.”

He hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to know. “Oh.”

“He’s in Mombasa investigating fraud.”

“I wasn’t fishing for his whereabouts.”

“I thought you would like to know. Has he been in contact with you since the Pozlin case?”

“No.” Liam rubbed a hand through his beard - his man-beard of pain, Louis had called it. “To be fair, I asked him not to.”

Andrea nodded like she expected as much. She stood. “I have a birthday party to organise.” He rose to his feet and she escorted him to the door, offering him freshly baked biscuits. He told her he really needed to get going and he had intruded enough for one day. Driving away, he adjusted his rear view mirror, watching the house disappear.

#### ***

“You don’t revisit that night,” Zayn said. Words of protest were on Liam’s tongue, ready to spill out. They were at an alumni function. The parking lot was empty - exactly like that night years back, complete with a broken, flickering streetlight. Zayn looked different. His hair was cropped short and there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept for some time.

_You don’t know me,_ Liam thought. _All this time, you still don’t know me._ He knew if he let the words out, he’d end up yelling. There were people around and he could hear the monotonous drone of voices, soft music, and clinking of glasses.

Zayn was still looking at him, his eyes glinting with humourless mirth. “I’m curious, Liam.”

“About?” Liam asked, despite himself. This was vaguely familiar. The champagne clouded his mind, jumbling all the different Zayns. Schoolboy Zayn, beautiful and cruel, uni Zayn, cold and indifferent. Grown up Zayn, reserved and warm in a way Liam never thought he could ever be capable of being.

“You.” Zayn’s voice was silk. Liam raised his face to the starless sky. He expelled air from his lungs and reached in his trousers for his car keys. There was fabric blocking his hand and he looked down to find himself wearing his graduation gown. When he glanced at Zayn, he saw that Zayn was also wearing a gown. “Liam, play along,” Zayn whispered in his ear.

They were in Liam’s old office. Zayn mouthed Liam’s jaw, his hands running up Liam’s chest. “Do you want to play along?”

_God yes._

Zayn pushed Liam backwards onto the desk and sank onto his knees in one graceful motion. Liam reached for Zayn’s face, brushing his knuckles across his cheek and nose.

Zayn pushed Liam’s graduation gown aside and unzipped his trousers, pulling Liam’s cock out. The brush of lips were tentative and Liam’s hips strained up, his breath hitching, moaning when Zayn closed his mouth around the head of Liam’s dick. It felt so good.

“Oh god,” Liam murmured.

“Boys, just like that,” Pozlin said from his seat in the corner.

Liam woke up with a start in his bed, his heart thudding wildly and his cock hard.

#### ***

He wouldn’t hear from Zayn for another month. 

Liam swallowed down his pride and called old mates of his from uni, asking them to recommend him if a position became available at any of their firms. One day, Edward, a lad he vaguely remembered from campus (who had been more of an acquaintance than a mate), called him back. A senior manager job had become vacant at his firm. The only drawback was the firm was in Southampton.

“I know you’re struggling, but you can’t move to Southampton,” Louis grumbled that evening as they drank beers in his flat. Liam had finally caved after weeks of pleading and he shaved his beard. His chin and cheeks felt strangely exposed after weeks of being covered. At least people didn’t look at him weirdly when he ventured out to top up on groceries in between bouts of playing videogames and wallowing in his flat.

“What’s wrong with Southampton?” Liam asked.

“You’d be in Southampton, for starters,” Louis announced.

“I need to get a job or I’ll have to move in with my parents and that is the last thing I want to do.”

“You could always room with me.”

“Until when? No one is hiring D&H scum.”

“You weren’t directly involved with the money laundering.”

“Blackwell was my client and Pozlin happened under my watch. It’s either I was in on it or I was so incompetent that I didn’t detect the fraud. It’s a catch 22.”

“Have you tried to mend things with Niall?” Louis asked.

“It’s not fair to either of us to continue with the relationship,” Liam said.

“Harry’s seen him around. He’s been in and out of physiotherapy and might even participate in a few races next year.”

Liam smiled. Niall loved to race and Liam was happy he would be getting that part of his life back. “Good for him.”

#### ***

The sky was a dark-grey, blanketed by an unending sea of angry clouds. The last few days had been cold and rainy, sentencing Liam indoors. He still hadn’t decided on the Southampton job. Edward had called a few times, leaving messages asking Liam to give him a final answer before they hired someone else for the position. Liam deleted Edward’s messages without a second thought. It wasn’t fair he had to upheave his entire life and move. He knew he should be grateful that someone was still willing to hire him and there were hordes of D&H staff that were on unemployment insurance benefits.

He pulled the curtains shut and switched on the light. Louis was at work and the only company Liam had was the telly, but there was nothing worth watching during the day. Liam was thinking about booting up his laptop and watching a few films he had copied from Louis when he heard a knock on the door. He went to answer it and there, standing on the other side, was Zayn.

“Hello, Liam,” Zayn said. He was soaking wet, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

“Zayn.” He blinked and stood back, letting him in. Zayn gave an apologetic shrug, stepped inside, and peeled his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

“I got caught in the downpour.” Zayn flicked his hair away from his eyes, rubbing at his arms. “Could I have a towel?”

“Sure.” Liam retrieved a towel from the washroom and handed it to Zayn, who used it to rub his hair and his arms. The black t-shirt he wore was soaked, clinging to his chest, showing every bit of muscle definition. He had a new tattoo on his arm, an intricate design that stood out starkly against the other older tattoos and Zayn’s skin. “How was Mombasa?”

“Hot.” Zayn pulled off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor, wiping his chest dry before he wrapped the towel over his shoulders. Liam worked at keeping his eyes on his face. It wasn’t a big deal, he’d seen Zayn shirtless before. Zayn hooked his hands on the loops on jeans. He wasn’t wearing a belt, his jeans hanging down low on his hips, water weighing it down. Rivulets of water dripped down from the hem to Liam’s floor. “I thought you’d be pissed seeing me show up like this.”

“I’ve had months to cool off and I can understand why you did what you did.”

Zayn tilted his head to the side. “When I was on the Kenyan fraud case I had time to think. It wasn’t right of me to pull you into the Pozlin situation in Prague and I want to apologise.”

“You don’t have to –”

“Yes, I do.” Zayn ran a hand through his wet hair. “The second I saw the brief and I knew you would be involved in this case, I should have walked away, but I couldn’t.”

Liam’s heart rose into his throat. “Why?” Zayn took two steps until he was standing right in front of Liam, so close that when Liam looked at him, his vision blurred and became unfocused. He looked into one brown eye then the other, his face growing warm.

Zayn’s warm breath fanned across Liam and without thinking, he swooped down, placing his lips against Zayn’s. Neither of them moved, their mouths stencilled, their breaths mingling. Liam swiped his tongue across Zayn’s lower lip before pulling away, staring down at their feet.

“This is, um - I’m offering. If you’re still interested,” Liam said.

“Offering?” There was a smile in Zayn’s voice.

“You said you wanted to try it again – shag a bloke.”

“And you’re willing to suffer the hardship so I can decide if sex with a guy is a thing for me?” Zayn’s hands drifted down Liam’s chest to his midriff.

“Yes,” Liam said, raising his chin to steal a taste of Zayn’s lips, just because he could. Zayn unbuckled Liam’s jeans, pulling them down along with Liam’s underwear to his ankles and fell to his knees.

Zayn looked up at him as his hands stroked Liam into full hardness. Liam closed his eyes as Zayn licked up the length of his cock. A shock of pleasure ran down Liam’s spine as Zayn’s lips closed around him.

Liam could feel the pad of Zayn’s finger pressing into his hole as he sucked on his cock, his finger pushing deeper, inciting a moan from Liam. He felt lightheaded and he didn’t trust himself to continue on his feet. “Fuck.” Liam pulled Zayn up into a messy kiss. “Bedroom.”

Zayn nodded against him. Without breaking the kiss, they stumbled backwards towards Liam’s bedroom. Liam blindly reached for the door and pushed it open. It was the bathroom.

Zayn laughed against Liam’s lips. “Next door.”

“Of course.”

“You’ve forgotten the layout of your own flat?”

“No.”

Zayn took Liam’s hand and led him to the bedroom door and opened it.

Liam’s eyes roamed around the room, the blinds were closed, the bed unmade. Liam was happy he had managed to keep his flat relatively clean; messy, but clean. “I would have tidied up if I knew you were—”

Zayn didn’t give him an opportunity to answer. He pushed Liam onto the bed and got on top of him. Liam realised they had never been naked together. The encounter in his car had occurred between layer upon layers of clothing and it had happened in the dark. They kissed, opened mouth and messy. Zayn settled on Liam, dragging his cock against Liam’s thigh, until he hooked his right arm under Liam’s right thigh, hitching him up. Liam moaned when he felt the wet tip of Zayn’s cock press against his hole.

“Zayn, we need lube to continue.”  Liam sat up, reaching for the nightstand, where he kept the lube. He took Zayn’s hand, pouring lube onto his fingers. Zayn knelt between Liam’s spread thighs. Liam’s breath hitched as Zayn began to finger fuck him, his movement slow and drawn out.

“Fucking teasing me,” Liam mumbled.

Zayn laughed, “You’re really eager for this?” When Liam didn’t reply, Zayn slid the full length of his cock in. Liam winced at the brief flash of pain. It had been too long since he had taken a dick inside him, too fucking long—

Zayn began to fuck him. Zayn's slicked back hair fell loose over his forehead, brushing against Liam's face with each thrust. Zayn looked down at him, biting down on his bottom lip. Fuck, Zayn looked good. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Zayn asked.

“Biting your lips like that. You’re going to make me come too soon.”

“Would you prefer it if I bit yours instead?”

Before Liam could answer, Zayn dipped his head and captured Liam's bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently, inciting a moan from Liam. 

Zayn’s hand slid between their bodies and he found Liam’s cock, beginning to stroke him with each thrust. It was all too much and a shudder went through Liam's body as he came in Zayn’s hand. Zayn didn’t stop. He fucked Liam through his orgasm until Liam felt the tell-tale warm spurt as Zayn came inside him.

Zayn kissed him, pulling out slowly to lie on his back.  They laid staring at the ceiling, panting in unison.

“Do you want to go for dinner with me?” Zayn asked suddenly, his voice breaking into Liam’s thoughts.

“Like a date-date?”

Zayn sighed. “Yes, like a date.”

“I’ve just broken up with Niall and I’ve been living like a hermit for months. I’m not in the right place right now to date anyone.”

“So that’s a no?”

Liam glanced at him. “No, it’s a ‘not right now’.”

“You do know that Niall has dated five other people since you’ve broken up?”

“You’re keeping tabs on my ex?”

“Liam, I don’t get you—”

Liam sat up, pulling the sheets over his naked body. “I don’t want us to part in bad terms like last time. I want us to be friends.”

Zayn shook his head slowly. “If you feel that way, then why did you have sex with me?”

“I don’t know! Maybe it’s because I’m fucking still in love with you!” Liam blurted out. He closed his eyes in frustration. Keeping his thoughts to himself had never been his strongest suit. He felt Zayn’s hands on his shoulder and then Zayn leaned in and kissed him.


	22. Going Concern

Zayn’s job took him overseas. This time the city was Dallas and the crime was a pyramid scheme being committed by an ambitious oil heir. Those were the only details Zayn provided Liam, saying everything else was classified.

Liam received an offer at one of the big four firms which was remarkable considering the HR department had failed to respond to any of the emails he had sent last year. When he had received a call one day and the person on the line identified themselves as a partner at the firm, Liam had been at a loss for words.

“Unless you have already found a position from the time you applied,” the partner, Roger James, said.

“No!” Liam cleared his throat. “I mean, no, I haven’t. I sent my application months back, so I just assumed you went with someone else when I didn’t hear back.”

“It took longer than expected to work through the candidates and we really could use someone with your skill set on the team,” James said. “You will be a good fit for our team.” James went on to tell Liam about the position, which office he would be located at, and that his first day would be the following Monday where he would sign his contract and all necessary paperwork with the HR Officer.  

“I’ll see you on the first, sir,” Liam said. James congratulated him on the appointment and said his goodbyes. Liam may have done a victory dance in his living room, but there were no witnesses to account for it.

#### ***

Liam really hated Mondays. He had worked overtime during the weekend to meet the statutory deadline because the clerks on his team were so incompetent he wondered how they graduated university, let alone high school. He had to split his time between eight different client deadlines and the manager on one client wasn’t answering his phone because he was probably pissed off his head in some hotel bed. The only silver lining in the entire situation was he could finally send that third and final warning letter and Ben the boozer would finally be out on his arse and someone else’s problem.

Roger James had informed him in passing that the partner shortage would be alleviated soon and they had finally had a partner prospect selected from the short list of candidates. It wasn’t soon enough if you asked Liam, as he was positively drowning in work. But even if he wasn’t overworked, it wasn’t like he had anything else better to do with his free time.

 Zayn was still in the States working on the case. They were together, as together as you could be with someone on the other side of the world. Liam didn’t see other people and his sex life consisted of Skype sex and masturbating to dirty texts. Zayn loved his job and Liam wouldn’t ask him to quit the thrilling life of being a FOCAL agent. He missed him so much it physically hurt. Liam rubbed his temples wearily, willing the ache in his chest to dissipate. There was a tap at his door and Roger stuck his head in.

“Hello, Liam. I’d like to introduce you to our new partner.” Roger stepped aside and behind him, dressed in a killer suit, was Zayn, smirking when he saw the surprise in Liam’s eyes.

“Hi.” Liam rose to his feet.

“I’ll leave you in the capable hands of our newest partner,” Roger said. “He’ll show you around, give you the lay of the land so to speak.” Fred left Liam’s office. Liam’s head was reeling. Zayn was really here. What about FOCAL? And the corrupt oil heir case in Dallas? The look in Zayn’s eyes told Liam that none of those questions mattered.

“You’re back,” Liam said when the silence had dragged on for too long.

“Yes,” Zayn replied.

“For how long?”

“As long as you want me.” Zayn closed the distance between them. Liam smiled, reaching for the tie Zayn was wearing, yanking Zayn with it.

“You’re taking a risk there, Zayn.” Liam kissed Zayn once on the lips before pulling away. “Because I’m sure I will want you for the foreseeable future.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Zayn said, looking around Liam’s office. “Now, how about that tour?”

#### ***

One Sunday morning, Louis, Harry, and Liam were having breakfast in Louis’ flat when Louis declared, “You and Zayn are officially a couple.” He swiped a pancake from Harry’s plate. Harry feebly pretended to be affronted, but his attempts to swat Louis were less than half-hearted and far from threatening with the smile that was playing at the corner of his mouth.

“And what makes you say that?” Liam asked.

“He has a dedicated corner of space in your flat and so do you at his place. You spend more time on the phone with him than you do with me and we see how you’re not as grumpy as you were a few months back when Niall dumped you.”

“I was unemployed - I had more than enough reasons to be grumpy.”

“Don’t side-step the issue at hand,” Harry interjected, making Liam roll his eyes.

“And what issue may that be, mini-Louis?”

Harry smirked at the jibe. “You and Zayn being a going concern.”

“Yes, he and I are adults enjoying our free time together. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”

“When it’s you and Zayn, your former arch-nemesis who you spent the better part of the prior year vehemently swearing you hated, it is more than that,” Louis said.

“So I may have fibbed. I did fancy Zayn.”

“I’d say you did more than _fib_.”

“Louis, if you have to know, we haven’t discussed it. We’re not throwing labels up into the air and trying to make them stick,” Liam said before he steered them away from the topic by asking how Harry’s exam preparation was going.

#### ***

He was in bed with Zayn, their legs and arms tangled, Zayn laughing. Liam reached for his hand, grasping them between two of his own.

“What’s so funny about that?” Liam asked, rolling on top of Zayn.

“It’s just hard to imagine.” Zayn shoulders rose and fell from his exertion. Liam pinned him down onto the bed, working his knee in-between Zayn’s.

“I’ll have you know that I’d make an excellent secret agent.” Liam undulated his hips against Zayn, watching as Zayn’s eyes fluttered shut.

“To be an agent, you’d have to be great at keeping secrets.”

“I kept how I felt about you hidden, didn’t I? You had no idea how utterly mad you were driving me.” Liam dropped kisses along Zayn’s neck, nosing into his shoulder, breathing him in. Grinding up against Zayn felt good, but he’d came too many times this evening and there was no way he would get it up again, no matter how prenaturally good looking Zayn was. He settled on top of Zayn, happy to press his ear to Zayn’s shoulder and listen to his solid heartbeat. After a bit he moved off Zayn, settling beside him.

“Tell me when you first fell in love with me,” Zayn said, his voice drowsy with sleep, reminding Liam of a child asking for a bedtime story.

“It wasn’t love at first sight if that’s what you’re asking.” Liam nestled against Zayn’s body. “I might even say it was hate at first sight since you weren’t the nicest person back then. I stopped hating you in Year 10, but then in Year 11, you scheduled your summer end party the same day as my sixteenth and the hate returned in full force.”

He heard Zayn mumble something. “What?”

“I only scheduled the party because you didn’t invite me to your birthday,” Zayn said. Liam turned and raised his head to stare at him.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You invited half the class, but not me.”

“That was payback for you not picking me for the student versus teacher golf match.”

“I thought you would have been grateful to be spared that snooze fest.”

“I would have liked to have the choice and not have it decided for me.” Liam dropped his head back, trying to remember what he had been saying before Zayn interrupted him. “I think I knew that if I allowed myself to drop all the pretentious stuff there wouldn’t be anything to stop me from falling for you. I can’t say there was a specific moment I knew, but if there were, my powers of denial are greater than I imagine.” He felt Zayn put his arms around him and snuggled up against him. “Did you have a moment when you knew you were in love with me?” He felt Zayn shaking his head.

“I suspected it that night when we fooled around in your car, but it felt like a bleak prospect to explore. I would deploy for FOCAL training god-knows-where and you were off to D&H. It would have been foolish to think I could ask for something like that from you so I kept back and avoided as best as I could,” he breathed, rubbing warm knuckles up along Liam’s spine, making Liam shiver. “I thought of you a lot. Wondered where you were and how you were doing. I never checked up on you because I felt that if I did, then I would spill all my guts to you and tell you what I had been feeling all that time. It was a shock to open that brief and see you listed in it.”

“Looking at where we are, I’m glad you took the job.”

Liam smiled, his heart feeling fuller than he ever imagined possible. “So am I.”

 

####  **The End**


End file.
